


Experimental design

by Alphawave



Series: Burns and Smithers but consensual [1]
Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (2020)
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, BDSM Scene, Dom/sub Undertones, Foot Fetish, I'll add more tags when the story gets going but the first chapter is SFW for now, Implied/Referenced Torture, Light BDSM, M/M, Masturbation, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Scent Kink, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Repression, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:55:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 36,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23014354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alphawave/pseuds/Alphawave
Summary: Dr Robotnik has been noticing some curious things about Agent Stone, and also about himself. Strange emotions and strange behaviours, seemingly with no true purpose. But Stone was not like the other idiots, there had to be a reason for those soft glances and gentle smiles and heartfelt eyes.Perhaps with a couple of experiments, he might get to the root of his conundrum. Maybe then he might begin to understand the machinations of his own human heart.
Relationships: Dr. Eggman | Dr. Robotnik/Agent Stone
Series: Burns and Smithers but consensual [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1654006
Comments: 69
Kudos: 296





	1. Get what you deserve (SFW)

**Author's Note:**

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> 
> So one piece of fanart and 24 hours later I'm hooked on a ship for a movie I haven't even watched yet. This...this isn't even the first time this has happened but WHATEVER! I hope you guys like it, because I will.
> 
> __  
>  __
> 
> _The story is marked explicit, but if you want only the naughty bits or the SFW only bits, all chapters will be marked with the relevant stamps in the chapter name. Enjoy!_

He didn't deserve Agent Stone. That was the startling first thought that hit Robotnik that morning. It was startling, because of its sheer stupidity. What did he _mean_ he didn't deserve Agent Stone? He definitely deserved Agent Stone. In fact, he deserved more. He deserved more people waiting hand and foot on him at all times, any time, doing whatever he asked for. I mean, Stone already did that, and he did a damn fine job following Robotnik's orders. OK, so maybe he didn't _need_ more people, but he deserved to have more if he so choose to, which was just about the same, wasn't it?

Well, actually it couldn't just be any people by his side. The world was full of preposterous idiots, and their heads were filled with nothing but shallow ill-conceived thoughts and dreams. Even the so-called smart people only ever focus their intellectual attention on one microscopic area, rather than the whole gamut of knowledge. No, he needed someone who was smart, or at least had an open mind. Someone who could follow orders, and was willing to learn the true order of the world.

Which was basically Stone, now that he thought about it.

Robotnik puzzled over this curious quandary over brunch as he awaited the results of his latest experiment. Much as he prided himself on having the latest and greatest technology available, some things just couldn't be sped up. He checked the estimated finishing time. Just a few minutes more. Enough for a quick break.

"Stone!" He shouted.

Agent Stone was, of course, ready with a ham and cream cheese bagel. He used to bring plates, but quickly learned that plates never stayed not-broken about Robotnik's presence. Paper towels were now his method of food containment, even if they weren't very environmentally friendly.

"I made you a bagel," Agent Stone announced, as if Robotnik didn't have perfectly functional eyes. "Smithfield ham and Petit-Suisse cheese, lightly toasted. Just the way you like it, sir."

Robotnik huffed, but grabbed the bagel, muttering a "thank you" with a full mouth.

He often wondered what brought Agent Stone into Robotnik's services. Agent Stone was a government agent, which meant there was a lot he couldn't say about himself. Ivo knew he was considered a 'punishment' of sorts for these government types; that most of these agents had done something bad to be placed into Robotnik's care. For most, it was obvious why they were demoted. They were clumsy, or stupid, or ignorant, or any combination of the three. Not Stone. Stone was strong, and observant, and capable. He'd be perfect if it wasn't for the occasional slip of the tongue, and the odd fumble. These slips always came out of nowhere, without warning, as if they were perfectly timed to grab Robotnik when he was at his most vulnerable.

Like right now, while Robotnik was eating his bagel, Stone had to open his impressively big mouth. "So…good weather, right?"

Robotnik bristled. "The first thing I told you once you came into my services was to never talk about the weather," he snapped.

"I'm sorry, Doctor," Stone said.

"It's an unstimulating topic of discussion," Robotnik continued. "Any idiot can peek their head out the window or glance at their phone like a zombie and know what the weather is like. I mean, if we are talking about the formation of certain weather phenomena on other planetary bodies outside of our own then that might be an interesting discussion. But no, you had to ask about the weather outside when you can clearly see it yourself. Like a simpleton."

"I'm sorry, Doctor," Stone said.

Robotnik just turned in his chair dramatically and glanced outside the window. It's sunny, with a few Cirrus clouds near the horizon. Perfectly normal for the afternoon. "The weather is good," Robotnik muttered quietly.

"I think so. Would you like to have a walk outside while we wait for the results of the sample?"

Robotnik narrowed his eyes. Stone knew Robotnik hated going outside if he wasn't required to, especially when he had all the amenities he needed within his mobile van. From anyone else, that question was almost innocent. Idiotic. But the timing was almost too perfect. A silly little question seemed to trickle its way down his spine and make his blood vessels burst into flames.

It was almost as if the man was goading him. As if Stone wanted to get punished.

Robotnik suddenly grabbed Stone by the jaw, pulling his face up so he was forced to look into Robotnik's eyes. Stone's eyes widened microscopically, but his lips curled up into a barely suppressed half-smile.

"Keep quiet," Robotnik said. "And stop smiling while you're at it!"

Stone raised his eyebrows, but did just that, letting his face relax, his lips pressed tight. Robotnik never questioned why Stone followed his orders so eagerly. He thought it was because Stone was one of the few people who truly appreciated his genius, or because Stone understood the consequences of being on his bad side. But there was something else behind those dark eyes. Something knowing, flickering like the flame of a lighter. Something that Robotnik didn't understand, or perhaps couldn't understand.

If there was one thing Robotnik hated most in the world, it was not understanding something.

"Agent Stone," Robotnik said slowly, tasting the word as it left his lips. "You will do anything I tell you to do, won't you."

Stone did not say a word. He continued staring forward, eyes unblinking.

"Well?!" Robotnik asked.

"You asked me to be quiet. And even if you didn't, that's a statement, not a question."

Robotnik gripped Stone's jaw tighter, lips twisting into a scowl, which had the added effect of making his moustache twitch. "It's a statement, because I know for a fact that it's true. You will do anything I ask. I should reward you for that loyalty, and I will, but first I want to see the depths of that loyalty."

Stone paused for a few seconds. The sound of air travelling in and out of his lungs could be heard before, "OK." It was said casually, but Stone's eyes make it clear that it's a challenge. A game that he was eager to play.

Robotnik chuckled sardonically. "Everything breaks eventually. I wonder what breaks you." He harshly let go of Stone's face, tapping him on the cheek before taking a step back. "On your knees."

Stone did as he was told, kneeling on the ground.

"On all fours, you imbecile,” Robotnik ordered.

Stone glanced up at Robotnik for a fragile second before ducking his head down, getting on his hands and knees.

There was something about the sight of literally having someone bowing before him that made something shift within Robotnik. He thought it'd made him happy, and it did, but he also felt something else. It was a strange emotion, not something that Robotnik could say he's ever felt in his life. It bubbled up his chest, making him warm and weak from the inside, and it threatened to spill out from his pores. It threatened to ruin everything he's made for himself.

Before he could even stop himself, he lifted his knee and pressed the heel of his shoe to Stone's back. Stone's back dipped slightly as he grunted, but he made no other sound. He took the added weight, no complaint to be heard.

Robotnik felt like the wind was taken out of his lungs, which was physiologically impossible. There was nothing that could do such a thing. The closest was the visual stimuli of his foot stepping on Agent Stone but that couldn’t be it, surely. Well actually it was a rather pleasing sight, exercising the power he so clearly wielded, seeing Stone submit to him. But like an addict he wanted more. He wanted to hear Stone beg for mercy, the loud shouts and the low moans. He wanted to see Stone smile as he was shoved roughly, eagerly opening his mouth so Robotnik could play with his eager tongue.

Another sucker punch to the gut, and another wave of heat. He was getting light-headed. His cheeks were red, and his breathing had quickened, and his eyes were wild and crazed as he tried to make sense of his swirling mind.

Robotnik was glad Stone couldn't see him. Otherwise this single instance of weakness would be met with punishment. A true punishment, not unlike these weak little punishments he'd been handing Stone.

"What are you?" Robotnik growled.

"A government agent."

"And what am I?"

"My boss."

"So what does that make me to you?"

Stone didn't answer. His back quivered microscopically. Robotnik saw this show of weakness and shifted his weight, bearing his foot down heavier on Stone's back.

"This is a question. And you have to answer it."

Stone didn't reply with a word, or a sentence, or even a string of sentences. Instead, he let out a pitiful little squeak.

With that one little noise, the air shifted noticeably around them.

Robotnik may not have been the most socially adept (despite his claims otherwise) but he could feel the tension in the air. It's not the usual tension Robotnik felt during a difficult negotiation and it wasn't the tension he got whenever he had to go away for his yearly visit to mother's. This was a new kind of tension, an unspoken taboo flaking at the edges and ready to snap. What that taboo was, he didn't know, but from the way Stone's face rose, those dark eyes staring into his soul, searching for something within Robotnik, he realised it was something significant. It was something neither of them should have ever touched.

Stone's eyes flickered down from Robotnik's face to his polished shoes. Slowly Robotnik took his foot off Stone's back and dragged it up his back. His heel was to Stone's cheek, nuzzling it into his perfectly trimmed beard. Stone didn't react, just continued staring at the shoe that was right next to him, his mouth wet and agape.

"Doctor?" Stone said hoarsely.

He didn't know if he actually gulped, or if he imagined himself gulping. All he knew was that if he continued, he was going to make one of the biggest mistakes of his life, and he couldn't stop. The very tip of his shiny brogues are a breath away from Stone's lips. They're waiting on a breath, waiting for the checkered flag to come down and for the race to begin.

The timer suddenly rang, taking both men by surprise. Robotnik moved his foot away from Stone, hurriedly striding over to stop the incessant ringing. By the time he turned back around, Stone was already on his feet, collecting himself. If it wasn't for the footprint mark on his jacket, it was almost like nothing had happened.

"Leave," Robotnik uttered.

Stone's brows furrowed. "I'm sorry?"

"I'm rewarding you," he grunted. "Have the day off, heck, have the day off with pay. Enjoy the bonus, spend some time in the sun, eat food, make friends. Just get out of my sight."

Stone tilted his head. "If you're sure, sir. I'll notify the other agents."

As Stone headed for the exit, Robotnik barked out "but get your ass and the rest of your body here early tomorrow. You're not out of the woods yet, matey boy." It was hard to tell if Stone heard it or not, however, because he had already closed the door behind him.

When he was sure Stone was gone, Robotnik sank into his chair, rubbing his temples with two fingers from each hand. For some reason, he felt relieved and disappointed at the same time, and he wasn't sure how two diametrically opposite emotions could be evoked at the same time, but he didn't want to think about neurotransmitters at this moment in time.

No, he wanted to think about that curious look that Stone gave him moments ago. He wanted to figure out why it made his stomach decide to learn the Macarena. There was a link, and he didn't know what that link was, and it infuriated him to no end. There was a reason Stone looked at him like that. There was a reason he felt that so-called butterflies fluttering in his chest. There was a reason why he thought he didn't deserve Agent Stone earlier this morning. But what is it? How can he find it? How, _how?_

Robotnik suddenly sat straight up. The answer came to him like a prayer answered by some benevolent god. The simplicity of this answer was almost idiotic. This could all be sorted by science. Yes, that was it. He had all sorts of technology by his side. He had a moving laboratory, and the latest and greatest robots, and a keen analytical mind. He could conduct an experiment—multiple experiments—and find the dependent and independent variables, test his hypotheses. Designed correctly, he'll have his answer.

He was sure he could do it. Anything could be answered by science. And if it couldn't…well, he didn't want to think about it. This was something he had to get to the bottom of.

He'll figure out the secret to Stone's heart, and when he does, he'll make sure it's put to good use. This, he promised himself.


	2. Between a Stone and a hard place (NSFW)

A lot of people told him not to do it. He was young and he was capable, and he was capable of being one of the world's most deadly assassin, so why choose to become the babysitter of some scientist? Why choose to get verbally abused day in and out, without an ounce of gratification? But these people saw Robotnik as merely a person to protect, and not the genius he was. Agent Stone had been on security detail for a lot of people, but they were nowhere near as entertaining and fascinating as Dr. Ivo Robotnik. They didn’t learn about everything there was, spilling information so freely like it’s as simple as 2 + 2. They didn’t contradict themselves so obviously, barking out compliments because they were incapable of being kind without also being cruel.

Truth was, Stone was fascinated with Robotnik and his contraptions. He was smart, there was no question about it, but compared to Robotnik, he was dumb. And he wanted to learn, he wanted to see the world through the eyes of madness and maybe get the spark of inspiration. He wanted the world to know just how brilliant Dr. Robotnik was, because there really was no one like him. He was quirky, weird, and childish, just as much as he was observant, intelligent, and persistent.

His friends liked to joke that he was a fanboy, but it wasn’t that at all. He admired Dr. Robotnik. That was it.

Or at least, that was supposed to be it. Until yesterday, when he realised that he  _ liked  _ it when Robotnik bossed him around.

Maybe a bit too much, if the wet stain in front of his underwear had anything to say about it.

It wasn't like he was a kinky man. His previous experience in the bedroom had been relatively tame, and he'd been satisfied enough with the outcome, even if his last encounter was well over a year ago. He only played along with Dr. Robotnik's insults and degradation because it's cute, in a strange way. The doctor didn’t even try to put any effort into inflicting pain, just used it as an excuse to flaunt his extended vocabulary and limitless knowledge. Robotnik could be cruel when he wanted to be, but with Stone it was almost playful. With the two of them, it was give and take, bite and receive, punishment and reward. If he posed any real threat, Stone would make sure to put Robotnik in his place, and he had a feeling Robotnik knew that too. 

But there was something different about yesterday. Maybe it was the way Robotnik gave his orders—an edge of trepidation and hesitance in his normally clear and authoritative voice. Maybe it was the angle that Robotnik had placed his foot on Stone's back, giving him a clear look of Robotnik’s inner thighs and crotch. Maybe it was after, when Robotnik placed the tip of his shoe just in front of Stone's lips, when he couldn't help but think  _ I want to lick his shoe.  _ And then after that,  _ I want him to watch me lick his shoe. _

He thought he admired the doctor. He thought that was it. But when Robotnik had asked him what he meant to him, Stone felt his cock rise in interest, and suddenly what was once a simple answer now became far too complicated. Despite Stone's own intelligence, even he had no idea what to make of these new swell of feelings that rose from his gut when he so much as glanced at the doctor.

Stone was glad Robotnik had holed himself in his lab after the alarm for his experiment went off. If he had gone outside for any reason and turned his head, he might've caught Stone masturbating furiously around the corner, trying and failing to think of something other than what had happened mere moments ago. It was quick and tidy, with little to no chance of anyone catching him, but Stone couldn’t help but feel dirty as he cleaned himself up, headed back home, and laid down on his bed for the rest of the day.

Even thinking about that moment now, in the comfort of his modest apartment, made some very strange things happen to the front of Stone's pants. But he grimaced, and thought about that really ugly lady he had the displeasure of guarding a couple years ago, and he was relatively back to normal. 

He couldn’t think about his boss like this, Stone told himself. This was a one time thing. He just discovered a kink he didn’t even know he had. Yes, that was it, surely. It had nothing to do with Robotnik. It should have nothing to do with Robotnik.

The next day, Stone got up bright and early. He had a quick shower and breakfast, before heading over to the mobile lab. The thumping of the bass as some rock tune played told him that the doctor was inside, and having another private dance party as well. The song was a bit more modern, and the words a bit more cruder, but it was very clearly a Robotnik song. Stone remembered when he first found the playlists less than a month into his assignment to Dr. Robotnik. He copied the names of the songs one by one on a piece of paper and listened to them, hoping that perhaps bringing it up might help them get off on a better foot. Of course, it didn’t work, but he still listened to a few songs within those playlists, in the hopes of better getting into the mind of Robotnik.

This was just a normal day, Stone told himself again and again. Yesterday didn't happen. They were just going to ignore that incident, and never bring it up again, and they would continue on with their jobs in relative peace. He steeled himself, took a deep breath in and out, and smiled effortlessly.

Dr. Robotnik was doing a very convincing air guitar solo when Agent Stone walked in. He was bobbing his head up and down, messing up his perfectly coiffed hair as his fingers matched the song's guitar solo beat for beat. It was impressive, and like every other time he danced, it was hypnotic. The fact that he was still doing his pelvic thrusts was a reassuring sign. Actually, a lot of pelvic thrusts. And a few moves that wouldn't look out of place on a stripper pole.

Was it just Stone, or did Robotnik always dance so  _ sexily?  _

Robotnik turned around and shrieked girlishly. "Stone! I told you to knock!"

Stone let out a quiet breath, and smiled. So far, nothing out of the ordinary. "Sorry, doctor. I just wanted to see if you had anything for me."

"Obviously not, otherwise I'd call for you personally," Robotnik huffed. He clicked a button on his glove and the music stopped. Another click, and the lights returned to normal. "Now you threw me off my groove," he grumbled.

"I'm sorry," and then, after a short pause, "You have a meeting soon," Stone said.

"Oh yeah," Robotnik rolled his eyes. " _ That  _ man."

"Senator Willingham," Stone clarified.

"More like Senator Willie-really-dumb. I can't believe I have to appeal to him for my funding. Is he so blind as to not see what my robots can accomplish?"

"Probably," Stone couldn't help a small chuckle. Senator Willingham certainly wasn't the brightest man alive. He was a politician, but not a very well-liked one. He had very conservative views about the world, which often put him at odds with the Doctor’s more progressive stance. Even when Stone simplified the Doctor's complicated string of words, the Senator struggled to understand their meaning. In other words, the Senator was very basic. 

Robotnik snapped his fingers impatiently. "Get the blackmail file."

"Right away."

The 'blackmail file' was a literal black folder that Robotnik kept hidden in the mobile lab. It was locked by fingerprint ID, so only he and Stone could access it. Stone often tried to ask as to what made Robotnik's fingerprint scanner so different, but he knew he would never get an answer that didn't consist of so much technical jargon. He always asked anyway, because it was one of the few things that got the doctor so passionate. Stone rather liked Robotnik when he was passionate. When Robotnik was enjoying himself, he looked so much softer and kinder. 

Stone handed the folder marked 'W' over to Robotnik, who proceeded to scroll through it. "Wellington, Wheeler, White, Wickham, Willemsen—ahh, Willingham." He brought the file out and blew on it dramatically, making the dust particles dance under the fluorescent light. "Willingham is the one who cheats on his wife?"

Stone shook his head. "That's Senator Cockburn."

"Ah yes. The cocky little cockroach who thinks he can jam his cock into some poor lady."

Stone blinked. "Didn't think you would be sympathetic to Mrs. Cockburn, doctor."

"I don’t care about that insipid woman and her cheating husband, I…" Robotnik paused, as if he suddenly remembered something, and then he proceeded to do something very strange.

He dropped the folder on his desk, turned in his seat, and stared at Stone curiously.

Stone knew that look. It was the exact same stare he gave to an interesting specimen in one of his experiments. It was a dangerous look, without kindness or cruelty. It should make Stone feel scared. It's made many of his contemporaries scared in the past.

Instead, he felt his pants get a little bit tighter.

Robotnik narrowed his eyes. "Yesterday," he uttered.

Stone blinked rapidly. "Y-yesterday, doctor?"

"Yes, yesterday," Robotnik said. "Something strange happened yesterday, in this very room, in fact."

Stone kept his best poker face, but his mind was going back to the countless robots at Robotnik's command, the security cameras, the fact that he masturbated to Robotnik not even 10 feet away from the man after getting absolutely humiliated. Was he going to lose his job? Did Robotnik know? Was Robotnik going to do something about it?

Why was Stone suddenly imagining Robotnik's hand on his cock, stroking him to climax with that same curious stare?

"Stone," Robotnik snapped, and Stone straightened his back out of habit. "Yes, it was definitely something strange. And I don't know what it is. You know I hate not knowing."

Stone tried to stare back, but he had the irrational fear that the brilliant doctor might be able to read his thoughts, so he averted his eyes. “I know, doctor.”

“You know, but you don’t know. Just like I know, and I don't know. And that’s the infuriating thing.” His lips suddenly curled into a cruel smirk. “Congratulations, Agent Stone. You get to take part in one of my experiments.”

Stone quirked an eyebrow up. "An experiment?" He asked.

"Don't get excited," Robotnik said. "Or actually, do get excited. You will be able to see my genius at full work today."

Stone would argue he's seen Robotnik's brand of genius every day, but remained silent as Robotnik flitted around the lab, looking for something. He knew Robotnik had found it, because he exclaimed "Aha!" in a very loud and excited tone, holding it up to the light. From this angle Stone couldn’t see it but it looked small and unassuming. An old invention of the doctor’s?

Stone tried not to smile too widely as Robotnik approached him suddenly, revealing to Stone the mystery object. An old but expensive scarf was draped over Robotnik's hands, obscuring the doctor's gloves. Stone didn't think he'd ever seen Robotnik wear it, even in the wintertime. It'd look nice on him, Stone thought idly.

"Face to the wall, hands behind your back," Robotnik ordered.

Stone's eyes widened microscopically, but he pushed his chest to the nearest wall, his stubble catching on the white plastic. When he was sure his balance was correct, he placed his hands behind his back.

He could barely see Robotnik as he strode just outside of his line of sight. His wrists were suddenly grabbed by two gloved hands, pulled higher as a soft fibre wrapped around his skin. The scarf, Stone realised. Robotnik was tying him up. Stone inhaled sharply, which only granted him a huff from Robotnik.

"W-what are you doing, sir?" Stone asked. He could feel the heat collect in his cheeks.

"Don't talk while I'm working," Robotnik grunted.

Stone bit on his lip, stifling a moan. Robotnik's voice was right next to his ear, and his gloved hands were touching his skin so softly, and that little piece of fabric wrapping around his wrists felt so snug and warm. His cock was beginning to strain against his underwear. Was he seriously getting turned on by this? 

Robotnik must have felt this wasn't satisfactory, because he tugged sharply at the scarf, pulling Stone backward with it. Despite his training, Stone gasped.

"D-doctor, I—"

"Quiet," Robotnik said. He sounded strangely out of breath.

"But—" 

"I said, quiet." One hand held onto the scarf while the other slipped round Stone's waist and pulled his stomach up, forcing him to shift backward and stick his ass out a bit more.

Stone had trained for this, for people touching him in his sensitive areas, for the remote possibility that someone might tie him up and do whatever wicked thing they may like. And yet the fact that it was Robotnik—cold, callous, methodical Robotnik—touching him with an almost gentle reverence that had his head spinning. What was it about Robotnik's touch? 

Stone felt his cock stir as Robotnik’s thumb accidentally grazed over the bonier part of his wrist. This was definitely a kink, he realised blearily, and if he wasn’t careful he was going to expose himself to Robotnik. He'd ruin himself, his reputation, and quite possibly his future career with the doctor. 

He was left like this, hands tied up behind him, his chest pressed to the wall, gravity pushing him in such a way that he could not move an inch without falling down painfully. It was a humiliating position, and it was only made more humiliating when Robotnik drifted away to type away at his keyboard, no doubt making notes about something. Stone's head was turned at just the right angle to see Robotnik staring at him, that curious stare still stricken across his face.

He could get out of this predicament if he could. The doctor didn't do the scarf restraint perfectly, and he still had a knife on him for emergencies. But Robotnik would punish him, wouldn't he? He would, but how would he punish Stone? If he was being merciful, he might dock his pay or send a formal complaint, but Robotnik would never do that. He was all about the theatrics, and the power at his disposal. Perhaps he'd force Stone to clean up every nook and cranny of this van. Maybe he'd use Stone like a footstool, forcing him to stay on all fours for hours on end. Maybe he'd be daring and spank Stone firmly on his ass, letting his bombastic insults drip freely from his lips.

Stone felt his groin stir. "Mmfff," he bit harder on his lip, trying desperately not to moan. He could not get turned on. He was not getting turned on from this. He shouldn't, he couldn't, he wouldn't.

And yet it was so maddening to be placed in this position, so close to getting hard and not being able to touch himself. Maybe he could relieve the pressure a bit. Maybe it'll help him relax. Just...maybe. While the doctor was distracted with typing on the keyboard.

Stone took a shuddery breath, closed his eyes, and began to roll his hips slowly, imagining that he was fucking something, or someone. 

"Stone," Robotnik said, bite in his voice, "what are you doing?"

Stone kept quiet, but continued rocking his hips slowly. He felt his cock brush against the zipper of his pants and bit harder on his lip. That was the spot. There,  _ there _ .

"Ah yes, I told you to be quiet. You're free to talk now." Robotnik muttered something under his breath, but Stone only picked up his own name and the word 'obedient'. "Why are you gyrating your hips like a ballerina on steroids?"

"I-I am not," Stone said. Just a little bit more. Just had to get the right angle. Just needed the head to peek out his boxers and brush against the zipper. Just a bit more.

"You're still doing it! Are you asking to be punished? My goodness, and here I thought you were supposed to be a government agent, not a baby."

A wave of heat crept down Stone's stomach. His fantasy shifted, and now this mysterious entity he was fucking now had a name and a moustached face and a gorgeous backside full of aged spots. "P-please, doctor."

"Keep still!"

Stone almost yelped when Robotnik suddenly had his hands on his hips, forcing them to stop moving. Robotnik was putting so much power into his fingers that Stone could almost feel them dig into his flesh. His eyes fluttered, hands balled up into fists behind his back and his cock still trying to rub against his zipper, and the fantasy shifted again. Now it was him on his back getting fucked so harshly, being jerked back by a sharp tug on his restrained wrists. As the heat crept up Stone's body and made his cock throb earnestly, he realised dimly that he loved the feeling of being completely and utterly at someone else’s mercy.

Robotnik leaned forward, his breath tickling the back of Stone's ear. "I can and will punish you for this insubordination."

Stone's lips wanted to say no, but his mind was screaming  _ yes _ .

"If you like wiggling around like a worm so much, distracting me from my very important research—"

Robotnik's hands left Stone's hips. Stone felt his breath catch in his throat as Robotnik’s hands wrapped around the scarf again, tugging slightly.

"—then I'll make sure you keep still."

Before Robotnik could act, the door suddenly swung open. Stone yelped as Robotnik suddenly took his bound wrists and pressed him to the wall.

"Still see you're treating your assistants like they're disposable, Dr. Robotnik."

Of all the times Senator Willingham had to arrive, did it have to be now?

Robotnik turned around, perfectly angling his body to hide Stone's wrists from sight. "Senator Willy-nilly, once again you can't tell the difference between discipline and servitude."

"I know the difference," Senator Willingham grunted.

"Do you know the difference between 97 and 142?"

"W-wha—"

"I didn't think so," Robotnik smirked.

"W-well I'm sure your so-called assistant would appreciate it if you didn't pin him to the wall."

Robotnik had a retort, but by that time Stone had gotten out of his restraint and turned around. He placed a firm hand on Robotnik's shoulder, the other hand holding the scarf. "Senator, I was just helping the doctor ascertain the origin of this scarf he was gifted. If I'm correct, it's made from Thai silk."

"T-that's right!" Robotnik stuttered. He gave Stone a quick glare before taking the scarf back into his hands. "Thank you for your help, Agent Stone."

Stone smiled knowingly. "My pleasure, doctor."

The rest of the conversation with Senator Willingham went by as smoothly as Stone could hope for. As in, Robotnik didn't sick his robots on the man, and the Senator didn't take Robotnik's funding away. The banter was also enough time for Stone to discreetly handle his  _ delicate situation _ and calm himself down.

When Senator Willingham finally left, Robotnik whipped his head toward Stone and glared. His lips pressed into a thin line, though his moustache was twitching. "Your quick thinking got us out of a potentially sticky situation."

"What, getting out of the restraint? It was easy, I could teach you. All you need to do is get your thumb—"

"—but you directly disobeyed my order. Multiple times, in fact," Robotnik interrupted.

Stone let his lips dip. “Did you get good results for your experiment?”

“Of course I didn’t,” Robotnik snapped. “Your constant fidgeting and gyrating distracted me. Now I need to come up with another experiment on top of your punishment.”

Stone’s eyes widened. “My punishment?”

Robotnik smirked as he leaned closed. “Mark my words, Stone, I’ll think of a suitable punishment for you tomorrow. And I’ll make sure it’s so bad that you never, ever,  _ ever _ disobey me again.”

Stone kept his face neutral as Robotnik headed back to his computer. Inside, he felt excitement swell within his chest, making him feel like he was getting crushed and floating all at the same time, like gravity was pulling and pushing at his body and mind. He caught a glance of his face on the reflective walls, and he saw his red cheeks and dilated pupils, his imagination running wild as he thought of all the ways he could get punished.

Robotnik was going to punish him tomorrow. And here he was getting  _ horny  _ over the thought.

How the hell was he going to survive tomorrow without making an absolute idiot of himself?


	3. Dominant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I now have a discord server for this fanfic. Come and join in through this link to the['Experimental Design' discord server](https://discord.gg/vcYPe44), where you get sneak peeks and insights into my writing. Have to be 18+ only, since this is a NSFW fic._

Robotnik said he'd have a punishment for Stone, but he didn't. Not for lack of trying. He had an entire list of potential punishments that he’d been stockpiling in encrypted documents, waiting for the day that Stone did something to warrant their use, but what punishment was suitable for ‘too much wriggling’? He tried to think of something, but Stone’s wriggling had seemed to seep his brilliant mind, distracting him from his work even when Stone was not physically present. This wasn’t the first time Robotnik’s thoughts had drifted to Stone. The agent had a way of getting into Robotnik’s head, but there was something almost insidious about the way Stone controlled his thoughts now, reminding him of that gentle smile and the strength of his impossibly warm hand as it gripped Robotnik’s shoulder.

He should've made better notes. As a scientist he prided himself above all else for his extensive note-taking, but it seemed the variables had increased. Robotnik didn't remember Stone ever smelling so good, but the faint musky scent of dollar-store perfume was enough to make his mind blank for just a moment. Robotnik had taken a sample from the air and traced the perfume to a cosmetics store in the nearby downtown area, but when he went to smell it for himself, it didn't smell nearly as good. In fact, it smelled exactly like how Robotnik expected dollar-store perfume to smell like. 

He still bought it and tested it on himself, knowing enough about aromatic chemistry that the oils from his skin could alter the scent, but it still didn't smell nice. He should throw it away, but there was something about the scent signature that reminded him of Stone. With every inhale, memories of Stone's pouting lips and almond-shaped eyes resurrected, and those memories sent another spark of longing in his gut. Robotnik kept the bottle in his perfume cabinet next to all the expensive ones that he used on occasion. Just in case he got a spark of inspiration.

Luckily for Stone, Robotnik had no time to dole out his punishment. Today he had a task to perform, and he was certainly going to get it done now before it took any more precious time out of his busy, important life. Robotnik was only given vague instructions of where he needed to go and what he needed to find, but he was a genius with technology at his side. Finding people in this day and age was easy. In fact, it was so idiotically easy that he relegated Stone to find the address, who of course took his sweet time. At least he eventually found it before the end of the day, and he seemed to have fun with his little assignment judging from that massive grin that cut beautifully across his perfectly trimmed face. 

"I've already put in the GPS coordinates in, and it will be a fifteen minute drive, doctor." He handed Robotnik a latte. "I also made you a drink. Your usual latte."

Robotnik huffed, though he couldn't help the smile that peeked out from underneath his moustache. Before he might go and say something remotely sentimental, he snatched the coffee out of Stone's hand and took a sip. As always, it was perfect. "This coffee is the one thing that has not disappointed me today." He pressed some buttons on his gloves and a tiny little chime could be heard, signaling that the mobile lab was now in motion.

Robotnik had just settled back to his computer when he felt Stone's presence behind him. Stone was wearing a different perfume, Robotnik realised, and this one smelled even nicer than yesterday's. It was muskier, with an hint of something woody, like sandalwood or cedar. It reminded him of Stone's gyrating hips yesterday, and the day before when Stone was on all fours in front of him, and then every other time he had forced Stone into an awkward or humiliating position.

A brief mental image flashed before his eyes, of grabbing Stone by the lapel of his jacket and pressing his nose down to his throat so he could finally, finally know the secret to that intoxicating scent of his. It was going to drive him crazy, threatening to undo the lines of logic that kept his mind running. 

"Sir?"

Robotnik stirred, blinking away the image. He only just realised that his breathing rate and heart rate had increased slightly. He took another long sip of coffee to calm himself down. He made a mental note to add 'scent' to his list of variables for future experiments. "J-just annoyed about this task that buffoon Senator Walkie-Talkie put me on."

"You did insult his mother four times," Stone commented. "And his sister three times."

"His mother is a forest hag that eats children for breakfast, and his sister is a vacuous princess stuck on her fairy tale tower."

"Five and four," Stone smiled.

Robotnik rolled his eyes. "This is the first and last time I do that man's bidding. He may be providing me with some of my funding, but I refuse to be his dog. I'll do his silly little recon mission, but if he puts me on another task after today, I'm using the blackmail file." A sardonic chuckle escaped his lips. "When I'm through with him, the Panama papers will seem like a sticky note on a fridge."

"Or the Paradise papers," Stone added.

"I worked really hard on those two," Robotnik grumbled. "Uncovering all that dirt wasn't easy, even for a genius like me. Let's hope this next one actually does some serious damage."

Stone opened his mouth, no doubt ready to acknowledge his genius with that amazed face of his, or perhaps express his surprise at Robotnik’s involvement in these two world events, but then the mobile lab had rolled to the stop. Another chime. They’ve arrived at their destination.

The door rolled down, and Robotnik tip toed his way down, his polished brogues making an unpleasant crackle as they stepped on gravel. Stone was behind him as always, staring up at a neon sign for a nightclub called 'The Manor'. At least, it was a nightclub officially, but according to Senator Moby Dick, 'The Manor' had links to the seedy underbelly of the city, with a basement floor that was only accessible to those with the correct password. What occurred in the basement floor, the Senator did not say, but it was obvious that it offended his delicate sensibilities. Whatever it was, that was exactly where he needed to go. After all, the basement was where Robotnik could find the Black Dragon.

Just outside the entrance was a small line of guests in big coats and even bigger boots, waiting for their turn to be checked by the security guards. The line was progressing at an incredibly slow pace. At this rate, it'd take a good half hour before they'd get to the front. 

_Not if I have anything to say about it,_ Robotnik thought.

"Come on, Stone," Robotnik grumbled, pulling Stone by the arm all the way to the front of the line. He pretended not to see that look of soft surprise on Stone's face, lest he feel another way of confusing, ugly, _human_ emotions.

The two guards at the entrance didn't look too pleased. They were bigger than Stone, with bigger muscles and even bigger sneers. 

"Name?" The first asked.

"Why do you need my name?" Robotnik asked.

"Security," the second guard gruffly responded.

"Have you imbeciles been living under a rock your whole life? I'm Dr. Ivo R—" He was interrupted by Stone putting his hand in front of his mouth, stifling him.

Stone gave a polite smile as he said, "Stone and Reznik. We've got an appointment with the Black Dragon."

The first guard gave a quizzical look while the other one coughed nervously into his hand. Robotnik used the distraction to move Stone's distracting fingers away from his lips. 

"We don't have all day," Robotnik snapped. 

"Takes all sorts," the first guard mumbled as they checked them over for weapons before letting them pass.

Robotnik huffed, deciding at the last second not to scold these guards for their incompetence, and stormed on through to the reception. He was forced to pay an entry fee for both himself and Stone, and then had to suffer the absolutely humiliation of giving them his coat for safe-keeping. He liked his coats. Would've preferred to have them on his person, but at least he still had access to his most important gadgetry; namely the spy camera on his glasses and a few mini-badniks in his pocket, ready for deployment. 

Stone gave his own suit jacket to the receptionist, revealing his surprisingly tight black shirt. It made sense that Stone would be muscular given his occupation. Not needlessly muscular like the oafs at the entrance. No, Stone's muscles were form and function, a well-rounded mix of type I and type II muscle fibres. Robotnik wondered what those muscles would look like in the flesh, without a pesky shirt to obscure them from the world.

Stone looked at Robotnik for a second before approaching suddenly, his face inches from Robotnik's nape.

Robotnik stiffened. "What are you doing?"

"Helping you blend in." Stone popped the first two buttons of Robotnik's shirt before taking a few steps back to admire his handiwork. 

Robotnik didn't see how a few buttons could change his appearance, but at least Stone wasn't so close to him anymore. It wasn't the same when Stone was the one entering Robotnik's personal space. If this wasn't a public setting, Robotnik might punish Stone here and now. Given his way, he’d strip Stone down to just his underpants and have him parade himself throughout the club. But it was, and though many of his contemporaries claimed he lacked basic social understanding, even Robotnik knew his limits.

Judging from that small little smirk, Stone knew he was safe as well. "You look better like this, doctor."

Robonik's lips twitched, trying his hardest not to smile at the unwarranted compliment. "Of course I do. Now, let's get this over and done with, Stone."

They stepped through the curtained door to find themselves in the main area of the nightclub. Once upon a time, the nightclub used to be a factory, judging by its crude brick interior and vast open space, but at least they've done something to make it look more professional. There were bright lights, and a neon lit bar, and a dance floor with a DJ playing some atrocious modern club music.

It all looked like an ordinary club on first glance, but Robotnik prided himself on his observation skills and his tremendous IQ to spot things no common idiot would notice. The clientele was made up mostly of men, and some of these men made some dubious fashion choices, what with their leather garters and their gigantic boots. There was also a door at the end with a second set of bodyguards, asking for a code. Most people got turned away. That was where he needed to go. 

Robotnik was about to tell Stone this, but the agent stared wide-eyed at the scene, as if transfixed by an unseen entity. Robotnik snapped his fingers, and Stone seemed to come to.

"You do remember what we're here to do, right?"

Stone's brows furrowed. "Sir, do you know what this place is?"

"Just answer the question."

Stone seemed ready to protest, but then he let out a quiet breath and seemed to regain his sensibilities. "We have to find the Black Dragon, and deal with them accordingly. The senator said it will become obvious what we need to do once we find them. Or it," he quickly added.

"I'm assuming you're not so much of an idiot that you couldn't sneak some fire power in."

Stone smirked as he pretended to check his shoes. He lifted his pant leg just enough for the end of a military-grade handgun to peek out. Stone glanced up at Robotnik, which reminded Robotnik of Stone on all fours and the strange mix of emotions that filled his chest and took ahold of his mind.

He had to say something. Anything. Robotnik knew this was going into some uncharted territory, and he was not going to explore it without a data pad to record results. "Why Reznik?"

Stone stood up properly. "Hmm? Oh, that. I just thought it sounds close enough to Robotnik."

"But you used your own surname," Robotnik pointed out.

Stone tilted his head. "You didn't actually think Stone was my real name, did you?"

"O-of course I know it's not your _real_ name," Robotnik lied, because of course he never considered the idea that 'Stone' was a cover name. Agent Stone was just Agent Stone. He wasn't worth the neurons spent memorising his real name. 

So then why was Robotnik now so insanely curious about Stone’s real name? What could fit this man better than Agent Stone?

Stone laughed his quiet, melodic laugh. "Maybe I'll tell you my real name some other day, Ivo."

Robotnik bristled. "I did not give you permission to call me Ivo."

"You can punish me some other time," Stone patted him condescendingly on the shoulder before pushing past the throngs of people. 

Robotnik ignored the heat creeping up his chest as he followed Stone, shoving past half-naked men with leather straps on their chests to make his way to the bar. 

The lone bartender was polishing empty beer glasses when Stone sat down at one of the stools. Robotnik grumbled to himself as he took the seat next to Stone, surveying the options of alcoholic beverages on display. He never liked alcohol personally. He claimed it was because it killed his brain cells, but the real reason was that he never liked the taste. That, and he refused to associate with those frat dudes from college who insisted that a keg stand was a true judge of mental and physical fortitude. 

"Any drinks, gentlemen?"

"Water," Robotnik said.

"I'll have the same, thanks," Stone smiled, gracing the world with his pearly whites. 

The bartender flitted about, filling two glasses with water from the tap before dropping them on two of the bar's coasters, the logo of the club printed in bold red. Stone was about to open his wallet, but Robotnik had already slapped a ten dollar bill on the counter and said, "I'm paying for both. And keep the change."

The bartender shrugged, while Stone stared at Robotnik. He tried not to glance back as he took a long gulp from his glass, wincing at the metallic aftertaste. He didn't see what the big fuss was. It was just money. 

"I don't remember you lot," the bartender said. "You two new?"

"We are new," Stone said. "You wouldn't happen to know how we can get downstairs, would you?"

The bartender's brilliant blue eyes narrowed. "Why you asking?"

Stone paused for a few seconds, his tiny mind struggling to compute a reason as to why they wanted to go downstairs. Of course Stone would blow their cover already. He was strong and capable and a bit smarter than the average person, but he was still an idiot compared to Robotnik. 

Robotnik was about ready to throw him a bone when Stone said, "We're a couple."

In Robotnik's defense, he did _not_ spit his drink out. Even if he thought about doing it.

"A couple?" The bartender asked.

"Y-yeah." Stone found Robotnik's hand and entangled their fingers together, lifting them up so the bartender could see. It took all of Robotnik's willpower to not slap the hand away. He was starting to feel some funny things again. "It's our first time here, but our friends recommended we come here," Stone continued. "Said we should try the Black Dragon."

"The Black Dragon?" The bartender looked Robotnik up and down, not unlike how a judge would appraise a dog for a grooming competition. "I'm assuming you're the top."

"Of course I am the top. I'm always at the top," Robotnik replied.

The bartender stifled a laugh, while Stone looked away in embarrassment. What was wrong with what he said? It was a perfectly true statement. 

"You two are some weirdos, but then again this place kinda caters to your bunch." The bartender shook his head. "If you've got an appointment, I guess you must be alright. Just head to the door on the opposite side over there and tell Terry that Matt approves."

“Thanks,” Stone said.

Robotnik downed his glass of water in one fell swoop and stood up, not bothering to wait for Stone. He heard Stone scramble to finish his drink before jumping out of his seat.

“Hey, wait up, sir.”

"Enough of these games," Robotnik growled.

"You're making a scene," Stone said.

Robotnik stopped, swiveling sharply on his heel. “Me? You've been subjecting me to ridicule ever since we got here. Pretending we’re a couple? Unbuttoning the top two buttons of my shirt? Why not just kiss me right on the lips like this is some trashy yaoi manga from the late 90s? That'll really seal the deal, wouldn't it?”

A strange look flickered through Stone's eyes, a flash of lightning before the horrendous thunder. Robotnik only realised he had made a mistake when the thunder hit, and Stone's expression turned dark and cold, a storm brewing behind pitch black irises. “Sir, if I may, this is supposed to be a espionage mission.” He gestured at their surroundings. “Do you know what this place is?”

“Do you think I’m an imbecile? I know very well this is a nightclub.”

“A gay nightclub,” Stone pointed out.

Robotnik went silent for several seconds. His face betrayed no emotion, even as his racing mind struggled to conjure up a response. Looking now at the other clubgoers, it explained most of the peculiarities. It should have been obvious. In hindsight, it was very obvious. Clearly, Stone was distracting him. That had to be it. 

Stone smirked knowingly. “You didn’t even consider that possibility.”

“W-why should I?” Robotnik spat.

Stone let out a small sigh. “Doctor, if I may, you are a genius, but I have more experience with this line of work. If we want to go through this mission without incident, we need a cover identity.” He took Robotnik's hand in his own. "We're just blending in. No one will bother us, and no one will ask questions."

Robotnik bit back a frown. He never really liked people touching him. People that did touch him were usually out to harm him in some way. At least, it was true when he was just a child. Stone, however, would not hurt a fly. Robotnik had often wondered why Agent Stone was so highly commended when he was such a pacifist. The main reason why he chose Stone as his assistant was because all his superiors feared the man. But why would they fear such a simple, well-meaning idiot?

He stared at their conjoined hands, then at Stone's expectant face. It was such a stupid expression that he couldn't help but smile a little bit. "If this goes badly, I'm blaming you."

"It won't," Stone smiled. "Trust me."

Despite what little he knew about Stone, Robotnik did trust him. Not that he'd ever say it out loud.

They walked hand-in-hand to the door leading downstairs. The people who used to stare at him had now turned their head away, unconsciously confirming Stone's theory. Robotnik had to admit, it seemed to work, and he didn't have to shove his way through sweaty simpletons either. 

The two bodyguards were somehow even bigger than the ones at the entrance, their muscles so big and bulging that Robotnik was sure they were both abusing anabolic steroids. 

They glanced Robotnik and Stone over. "Password?"

"Which one of you is Terry?" Stone asked dumbly, even though it was clear by the name tags that the first one was Terry. 

"It's our first time here, we've got an appointment with the Black Dragon, yada yada. Matt at the bar said he approves."

The first bodyguard—Terry—blinked rapidly, but stepped outside, having at least enough common courtesy to pull the curtain back for the doorway so they could pass through. Robotnik and Stone followed down the narrow stairs lined with lush red velvet, taking the stairs one step at a time. It was dark, with barely enough light from the lightbulbs above their heads. On one side was a hand-rail, while the other had a variety of different posters talking about different acts. It was a lot of men dressed in various leather gear, holding something. What that something was, Robotnik couldn't tell with the low lighting, but he felt that familiar heat creep up his chest, a feeling he now associated with Stone and experiments and punishments. 

It took Robotnik a few seconds to realise he was still holding Stone's hand, and wretched it out of the man's grasp. He made a show of wiping his glove on Stone's shirt before sticking his hands into his pockets. Another strange look passed over Stone's face.

"Do you know what the Black Dragon is?" Robotnik asked.

"No. I thought you did, sir."

"Senator Will-they-won't-they didn't tell me anything, and obviously by that statement, I assume you've also found nothing. I would've thought I'd see some hint or trail about this elusive Black Dragon by now, but there's nothing. Just cryptic garbage that means nothing to us. No poster, no gossip. Nothing." Robotnik felt his eyes narrow, his fingers twitching inside his pockets, as they often did when he was frustrated.

Stone turned to Robotnik. "I know that look, sir. There's something on your mind."

"This isn't right, Stone," Robotnik said. "The circuit is incomplete. There's a missing connector preventing the current from running through my massive mind."

"I'm sorry?"

"We're either missing something, or there's something more nefarious at work. Much as I despise the illogical expression, I have a gut feeling it is the latter." Robotnik glanced at the bottom of the staircase, the sound of murmured chatter echoing. "Keep what little wits you have about you. We could be entering danger."

Stone smiled. "I think we can handle it, sir."

At the bottom of the staircase was a final door. A sign that simply said 'the basement' hung in front. The door was slightly ajar, letting in a slip of noise and light. There was no music, but there was laughter and chatter, and the whooshing sound of a thin object travelling at high velocity. Stone offered to open the door, but Robotnik shoved past and opened the door for himself, letting it swing open. 

Of all the things he expected, an almost-naked man getting whipped on their bare ass by a man in a latex bodysuit was not one of them. 

Robotnik walked forward slowly, trying to take in the menagerie of leather-bound men participating in what looked like a convention of sorts. There were stalls, and exhibitions, with almost-naked performers tied up in elaborate ways with crimson rope, or strapped to devices and left in vulnerable positions, all but exposing their most sensitive parts to the world. People chatted mindlessly while tugging on the enlarged pet collars of men on all fours, or leading others with blindfolds and ball gags up and down the strips between the stalls like it was a parade. There were handcuffs, and leg cuffs, and ankle cuffs, and a variety of clothing that restricted limbs. 

This wasn’t just a gay nightclub, Robotnik realised. It was a BDSM nightclub. A festival of torture for the delight of others. A place of limitless punishment, with the tools of the trade up for sale. 

“Uh, sir?”

Robotnik could easily imagine using these implements for his own methods of punishment. Stone had been quite disrespectful of late, and these people were so obedient even in the face of humiliation. He could chain him up, or cuff him up, or tie him up, or strap him down. For once, Robotnik had to admit defeat. His punishments seemed almost laughable compared to these artisans and their gadgets. His ideas were so narrow-minded, so childish, but this scene before him had introduced him to a whole new world of torture. 

A swell of excitement filled his bones. His mind was suddenly swimming with ideas. There were so many ways he could punish Stone, and they were right there, hidden beneath the veneer of public decency. 

“S-sir,” Stone repeated.

Robotnik shook his head. “C-come on, don’t just gawp like a fish out of water,” Robotnik said, acutely aware that his excitement was creeping into his voice.

They surveyed the stalls and the products they had on offer. Smack dab in the middle, strangely enough, was an information booth, where a bored-looking young woman in a leather bikini and spiked thigh-high boots sat. When they approached, she perked up, the picture of customer service friendliness.

“How may I help you gentlemen?”

“The Black Dragon,” Robotnik huffed. “Do you know where it is?”

The lady smiled pleasantly, although there was a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. “Got a group appointment?”

“Of course we do, otherwise we wouldn’t be asking. Just tell us who the Black Dragon is, and where we can find them.”

The lady giggled into her fist. “Oh darlin’, it’s not a person, it’s…you know what, I’ll let y’all see it for yourselves.” She pointed toward the back. “Right at the end, you can’t miss it. Oh, and enjoy the ride for me, will ya?” She winked.

They followed the woman's instructions, heading deeper to the back. The further they went, the more serious it got. Where people were dressed provocatively near the front, at the back they were all but naked. Genitals and private parts were on full display, alongside more hardcore BDSM gear like chastity gear and clamps. Robotnik tried to avert his eyes but it was getting increasingly difficult. Suddenly he was glad his jacket was back at the entrance, because he was sure he'd be sweating. Even calm and collected Stone looked a bit hot under the collar, glancing furtively between the different implements, keeping his head turned away from Robotnik's direction. Robotnik was kinda glad he wasn't the only one feeling awkward here, even if he felt a little disappointed that Stone wasn't looking at him.

At the literal back was a small crowd observing what looked to be a performance. A proprietor in what could only be described as a sexy ringmaster costume was manipulating what appeared to be a robot in the shape of a limbless mannequin. It would've looked identical to any mannequin in a store, except for the jelly-like material it was made of, and the fact that it was sporting a gigantic cock, complete with fake veins. With the click of a button, the robot moved, repeating a motion like a trinket in a music box. There was something attached to the mannequin, Robotnik realised, near its bottom. Something long and thick and dark as ebony.

He pushed past the crowd, coming close enough to read the sign. The show was for a store that sold sex toys. There were dildos at various price ranges, each with their own length and circumference measurement to the side, as well as a 'performance' price for if people felt brave enough to try them out in front of an audience. Their biggest and most intimidating one? A dildo by the name of the Black Dragon.

Amidst the cacophony Robotnik heard a click. On the opposite side of the stall, just barely in sight, a man had his phone up. By his side Stone tensed suddenly. A second passed as Robotnik's gaze connected with the stranger. 

Then, the stranger ran. 

"After him!" Robotnik ordered. 

Stone didn't need to be told twice. He shoved through the throngs of people, Robotnik following shortly behind him. A few clicks of the buttons on his gloves, and the mini-badniks spilled from his pockets, hovering near the ceiling, tracking the stranger down. Robotnik was never a fast runner, but he didn't think he was a clumsy runner either. And yet he was like a newborn baby compared to Stone with his perfect form, the likes of which an olympic athlete would be jealous of. And those eyes, normally so soft, now sharp like blades and dark as the night. Dangerous. 

Stone had almost lost track of the man as they darted through stalls, but Robotnik could see him through his scouting badniks. "2 o'clock, red door," he called out. 

They sped forward, nearly colliding with a man in a full latex suit, as the stranger shoved the door open, Stone and Robotnik following shortly behind. It was clearly supposed to be a private room of sorts, with two naked men making out on a very plush bed. They screamed, but a single glance at the badniks made them pile their clothes up and hurry out. As soon as they were out of the room, Stone closed the door behind him and locked it shut. 

The stranger pressed a finger to their ear. "Code Orange, I repeat, code oran—gaagh!" Robotnik pressed a few buttons on his gloves and the little speaker in their ear buzzed and fizzed, making them scream in pain. 

A wicked grin spread across Robotnik's face. "Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, Little Red Riding hood," Robotnik said, his face pleasant even as his words dripped with venom. "Senator Thickhead couldn't bother to lift his pinky toe off the floor for one second, so he got you to do the job? What was it, blackmail? Murder?" 

Instead of answering, the man pulled out a gun. A second later and Stone pulled out his own gun with military efficiency. They both flicked the safety off at the same time.

"John Stevenson," Robotnik uttered. He knew he had the man when their eyes widened in horror. "Think I don't know who you are? A minute ago, you would've been right, but from that itty bitty little spider in your ear, I've now got your whole life in front of me. Two kids and a wife? I wonder if they know what you do."

John grimaced, pressing his free hand to his ear. "Code Orange, I repeat, code orange!"

"Don't bother, no one can hear you. And any incriminating images on that phone are gone already. That's what you get for trying to go against a genius like myself." The phone made a whining sound, and then what sounded like a cackle. It was completely unnecessary to do, but it was worth it for the look of horror that flashed in John's pitiful, ugly eyes.

John's gaze flickered between his gun and Stone. Slowly, he moved his gun, training his aim at Robotnik instead. His hand was shaking, but from this distance there was still a 70% of getting shot. Robotnik's moustache twitched slightly, the only tell he would show as his heartbeat raced and his breathing quickened. 

Unfortunately for Robotnik, he was still human. Despite the near limitless knowledge at his disposal, despite the fact that he had the upper hand, even he feared death.

"H-he told me he wanted to get rid of you," John stammered. "And I will. So stand down!"

"You shoot me, and I'll make sure your life is so miserable you'll make Bridge to Terabithia seem like a comedy. From the grave or the hospital, my robots will destroy you so completely and utterly that there won't even be enough of you for your family to cremate into a bottle cap. You are nothing, and you will be nothing in life and death when I'm finished with you."

John's eyes suddenly went dark, and the air shifted. It reminded Robotnik of when the music cut out when playing a visual novel, the world drowning out until there was only himself, and John. The mini-badniks weren't cut out for combat. He didn't have any weaponry that was faster than a bullet. His options dwindled by the microsecond. 

Robotnik could count on one hand the mistakes he'd made that he could say were completely and utterly his own. Unlike the very, very few he had made in his life, he would pay the ultimate price for this one. 

"I'll take the risk," John said emotionlessly.

Robotnik closed his eyes as he heard the sound of a single gunshot. For what felt like an eternity, he waited for the searing heat and the merciless pain and the cynical laughter of the Devil, but instead he felt a draft as a shadow blocked the soft lights above. He opened his eyes, and Stone was in front of him, smoke billowing from his gun. John collapsed onto the ground, blood oozing from his shoulder to the floor. Reality flooded back as Robotnik heard the commotion outside, people screaming in fear as they raced up the stairs. 

He should care about how they get out of here, of the bleeding body on the floor, but instead all he cared about was his own reflection glittering in Stone's soft eyes, frazzled and vulnerable. The last time he remembered looked like this was back at the Orphange decades ago. He never thought he'd resemble that brat ever again, in a gay BDSM club of all places.

"Are you alright, doctor?" Stone asked softly. 

He wanted to say yes, because obviously he had not sustained any damage, and obviously this wasn't his first time seeing a dead body. He should say it, and get the hell out of here. But instead he was quiet, staring into the eyes of a man he thought he knew, but didn't. After all, Stone never looked so intense before, with that dark, unyielding stare. Those were the eyes of a merciless killer. A man who has no doubts or hesitation. And that man saved Robotnik's life.

Robotnik jerked his head away. "D-d-don't just stand there and play with your moisturized thumbs. Let's get out of here."

A small, relieved smile played on Stone's lips as he flipped the safety back on. "Right away, sir."

As they joined the crowd and blended in with the sea of black, being jostled and shoved as people scrambled for the entrance, Stone reached for Robotnik's hand, gripping tightly. Robotnik decided not to punish Stone for touching his hand without express permission. Not this time.

* * *

Senator Willingham woke up in a sterile room he did not recognise. Tiled white walls and tiled white floors surrounded him. As he tried to move, he suddenly realised that he couldn't. His hands and his legs were strapped to a chair. 

When he got used to the light and opened his eyes, Robotnik was before him, a vicious sneer on his cruel, uncaring face. He expected some childish insult, some boast about his intelligence. Instead, Robotnik silently put his hand out to Agent Stone, who produced a folder from his jacket. Robotnik's eyes did not leave Willingham as his fingers skimmed through the folder, taking out a single sheet of paper. He pulled it out with a flourish, and spun it around for Willingham to see. 

A cold sweat dripped down his forehead. His face was pale. 

"Do you know what this is?" 

Willingham let his lips dip, but said nothing.

"That is you, just last week at the nightclub, getting pissed on by two well-known male escorts." His lips curled up into a sinister smile. "Always thought the only subject you ever passed in school was urine."

"What do you want?" He spat.

Robotnik put the picture back in the folder and got dangerously close. "I'll say this so simply, even an utter idiot like you could understand. You'll increase your funding by exactly 50%; that's a 50% increase. You'll let me do my job without your thoughtless intervention. Most importantly, you'll never try a stunt like last night on me, or my agent, ever again. I find out you attempt to blackmail me, or murder me, or do anything that affects me in a negative way, and I will leak this, as well as every sordid, detestable thing you've ever done. You'll be ruined in an instant." Robotnik leaned back upright. "Do you understand me? Or do I need Stone to dumb it even further down to you?"

"You are a maniac," Willingham rasped.

Robotnik straightened up, a darkness that threatened to block out all light. His smile shifted into something that seemed almost pleasant. Something that looked a lot like excitement. 

"You know, I must give you credit, you did introduce me to such a lovely place. After all, it opened me up to a whole new world of punishment." A small swarm of egg-shaped robots appeared behind him, pointing their at Willingham's chest. "And you're the lucky man that gets to be my first guinea pig."

Senator Willingham may not have been smart or observant, or anything special in the brain department, but he saw the slightest shift in Stone's eyes as he stared at his boss with admiration, and something much more intense. He'd seen that look before, back at The Manor on the most willing and obedient of submissives. It was the look of a hungry predator masking themselves as prey, thinking about all the different ways it can consume or get consumed. And that look was directed at Robotnik, while the doctor was too busy fiddling with his robots.

 _I always wondered why he stuck with that vile man_ , Senator Willingham thought. _Perhaps there really is something more going on with those two._


	4. Actions have consequences (SFW)

Actions have consequences. That was the first thing Stone was taught back in school, long before he was given the identity of Stone. As a child, Stone wasn't too different from his adult self, with a few exceptions. The most blatant one of all was his utter disregard for any and all authority figures. But in his defense, it was utterly hilarious to see Teacher Deidre try and wobble over to chase him, her big gangly arms wafting with the breeze. Teachers had words to describe people like him. He was too nice to be a bully but too much of a nuisance to be a good kid. He was kind and friendly to his peers and his family, but showed absolutely no consideration for his teachers.

Thus, he was labelled a 'troublemaker'. For a boy with no future goals in mind, it suited him well enough. 

There was one victim above all else that young Stone liked to tease. Mr Khoury was a new science teacher in his school, with slicked back hair and a wide grin and a crazed look in his eyes. As a teacher he was OK—this was his first job as a teacher and so he was still a little wet behind the ears—but it was the experiments he did during break time that awarded him his reputation amongst the students. As a son of a chemical manufacturing giant, he was able to get easy access to all sorts of chemicals and materials for his experiments, and then some. He'd mess with chemicals in bunsen burners. He'd steal compost and seeds from the school garden to experiment on the plants. More often than not, he'd make sculptures and robots from scrap metal that he fished from the school's recycle bin.

He may not have been the best teacher, but there was no denying that he was incredibly and devoutly passionate about science. That made him the best target for pranks, Stone thought.

It started small. Stone would steal little things from Mr. Khoury when he wasn't looking. A piece of scrap for his experiments, the fancy gold pen on his desk. But of course, it quickly escalated into hiding all the valves for the bunsen burners and locking the room and drawing silly stuff on his classroom's whiteboard. The best moments were when Mr. Khoury caught him in the act and tried to chase after him. He'd laugh, just a silly little kid enjoying the moment as he ran and ran, glancing behind his back to stare at his teacher's flushed cheeks and sweaty forehead. Mr. Khoury was slow compared to Stone, so sometimes he’d let himself get caught. And then he let himself get caught more often. One time, instead of taking him to time out or detention, Mr Khoury forced the young child to help him with his experiments. And then he became an active participant. He claimed it was just to observe his teacher, and in a sense he was. He remembered Mr. Khoury's quiet look of concentration, the glitter in his eyes and the fire that burned deep in his soul. He remembered it so well that those looks stained his dreams, making him feel fuzzy and warm and happy.

It all seemed so fun and idyllic. Until one day, when Stone found Mr Khoury clearing out his desk.

“But I don’t understand,” the young Stone said. It was another lunch break, and he was expecting another experiment. Instead, Mr. Khoury was packing up his stuff, his normally calm face twisted into a scowl. “You didn’t do anything. You can't be fired.”

“It’s that incompetent headmistress," Mr Khoury said. "Her and her backwards views of the world, of progress. It’s only because of her that I have to go.”

“But why?”

“I’m…” Mr Khoury pouted, then turned to young Stone. Behind his glasses, his eyes were dark but focused, a swirling and shimmering vortex. “Will you keep this a secret between you and me?”

He nodded obediently. His chest felt light, knowing that his teacher trusted him so much with such an important secret.

“I’m married.”

Stone frowned. He wasn’t surprised, Mr Khoury was very good looking for an adult. Or at least, he thought he was. His friends didn’t agree. Then again, most of his friends were boys like him. “Is that a bad thing?"

“To another man. I'm married to a man," Mr Khoury replied.

Stone tilted his head in confusion. "That doesn't sound like a bad thing."

"It's not, but of course your headmistress seems to think otherwise, the troglodyte," Mr. Khoury spat. "Not all love is equal in this society. People of walks of life are expected to fit into society's expectations of love, and when you defy it, you’re punished.”

"I love someone," Stone blabbed. His small eyes widened, his hand instinctively reaching up to cover his lips. He didn't mean to say that. Not to Mr Khoury of all people.

"Oh? Who?"

Young Stone looked away shyly. A small chuckle escaped Mr Khoury's lips, gracing his sharp features with a rare softness.

"I'm flattered, but I'm afraid you're a bit too late. Five years too late, to be specific," Mr Khoury said.

"Most people say it's just a childhood crush," he quietly admitted. "They don't think it's real."

"All love is real, to some extent. It's the same neurotransmitters firing in our brains whether it's a fictional entity or a real person, someone close to you or someone that's completely and utterly unattainable." Mr Khoury smiled. "Perhaps you do have a childhood crush, but if you learn from who you love, and why you love them, maybe you'll learn a little bit about yourself from these experiences."

He nodded slowly, a frown playing on his young and childish face. He knew nothing would ever happen between them, even if Mr. Khoury stayed at school forever. In the presence of someone greater and better than him, why would they ever fall in love with someone so weak and dumb? 

Mr. Khoury's face sharpened. "You've learned something from this experience, have you?"

He nodded. "I did."

"Perhaps not everybody in this school is a complete idiot," Mr. Khoury said, rubbing his hand through the kid's short hair.

He stared up at his teacher's face. He did not know how or why, but something in his gut told him that this would be their last conversation ever. "I'll be smarter," the young boy continued. "I-I'll be better than smart. I'll be strong and cool and smart, and I won't let bullies tell me off."

In all his life, he'd never seen Mr. Khoury smile like this, soft and gentle like his favourite teddy bear. It shouldn't suit his face, and yet it did, this rare moment of softness transforming him into another person, a better person. In the reflection of Mr Khoury's eyes he saw his own expressive face, wide and beautiful. A selfish thought popped into his head, of someone looking at him with the same adoration that he looked at Mr Khoury. It couldn't be anyone. It had to be someone great. Someone brilliant and smart, who saw the world in a way no one else did, who'd grant him the kindness of letting him be by their side. 

It didn't have to be Mr Khoury, but someone like him. Someone just as great and brilliant.

"Tariq?" Mr Khoury asked.

"Stone!!" Robotnik yelled.

Stone jolted in surprise, turning his head to the source of the sound. In the present, Dr. Robotnik was glaring at him from his usual spot behind his desk, his stubble peeking out a little bit more than usual.

Stone put on a smile. "Sorry, sir?"

"I was going to ask you to do something, but it seems your mind is filled with ridiculous nonsense. What is it? Did you suddenly remember that red and blue paint combine to create purple?"

"It's nothing," Stone handwaved. "Just remembered something. Nothing important though."

But Robotnik didn't seem convinced. "You've been staring into space a lot lately. Do I have to get your brain checked?"

Stone blinked rapidly. From anyone else it was an insult, but from Robotnik it sounded almost like concern. "If you're talking about the nightclub incident, I'm fine. What about you, though?"

"Obviously I'm fine," Robotnik scoffed. "Unlike you, I haven't been affected whatsoever. My superior intellect means I do not get inundated by such insignificant things like death, and dildos, and other miscellaneous things in that category."

Except that was an obvious lie. Since the nightclub incident a few days ago, a few things had changed between them. For one, Senator Willingham didn't take too kindly to being tortured, so they needed to keep a low profile for now, which meant more hours being by Robotnik's side. Robotnik in turn had devoted more time to his research, working late into the night to work on a mysterious new project he'd concocted. Normally the doctor was eager to talk about his experiments, but when Stone tried to ask this time, Robotnik would stiffen and clamp up, pretending not to hear him.

And then there were those... _other_ moments.

They were insignificant in the grand scheme of things but Stone took care to notice the insignificant things, because in his line of work nothing was ever insignificant. The twirl of a moustache, the way the doctor chewed on the very tip of his gloves, the snap of leather gloves to the doctor's pale but firm wrists, the way he licked his bottom lip all too slowly when he was deep in thought.

It was earlier that day, as Robotnik scratched and itched at a red rash growing at the base of his stubble-lined jaw that Stone realised he had been staring at his boss for a whole ten minutes.

It wasn't polite to stare. He was sure if Robotnik actually paid attention and caught him, he might have been given some form of punishment. But then that only made Stone think about his punishment, and what Robotnik would do to him. If Robotnik made a threat, he always followed through on it. It could be any day now, perhaps even today, that he'd be punished. But usually Robotnik was rather swift with his threats, claiming that it took precious time away from his experiments. So why was Robotnik delaying it? Did he forget, or was he planning something big? If it was something big, why was it big? Would it be painful or humiliating, mild or serious?

Would Dr. Robotnik glance down at Stone with that heated gaze once again, ready to take whatever he wanted from him? Was Stone willing to give his boss whatever he wanted?

Stone glanced at his reflection, only to see a wide, excited smile grace his features. He clamped it down, trying to relax his face into a more normal smile. He was not getting excited about getting punished. This was just the adrenaline talking, or maybe that newly-discovered kink of his. This had nothing to do with his boss. 

Robotnik waved his hand frantically in front of Stone's face, making him blink.

"You're doing it again, Stone," Robotnik said.

"I-I'm sorry, sir."

Robotnik stood up from his chair and dramatically took a step forward, closing the distance between their bodies. With his gloved hand, he pulled Stone's face up, forcing him to look into Robotnik's cold, dark eyes. "What's going on in your mind?"

"Nothing," Stone said quickly, even as his eyes glanced down to Robotnik's salt and pepper stubble. He always wondered what that'd feel like on his hand. Would it feel different on his lips?

"It shouldn't be nothing. There should be something to fill that enormous head of yours," Robotnik cradled Stone's head roughly, as if looking through his eyes to see his dark, festering mind. "Perhaps there's something wrong with your head after all. The neurons aren't firing, or perhaps your frontal lobe just isn't responding to stimulus."

A strange thrill grew in Stone's chest as a smile grew on his lips. "Wouldn't it be the parietal lobe that's not working? If I'm not paying attention?"

Robotnik's eyes widened for a second, blinking rapidly as crimson fury crept up his face. Stone was correct, and they both knew it. In an instant, calm and logical Robotnik was unraveling at the seams. It always entertained Stone, seeing his boss lose that carefully crafted veneer of his and the madness and the brilliance peek through.

"You know, I never got to punish you for your insubordination the other day," Robotnik purred, a predator sizing up its prey. "Perhaps I've been a bit too lax with you recently. You should be taught more... _discipline_."

Stone couldn't stop smiling even if he wanted to. Something about that crazed look in Robotnik's eyes made him feel bold and cocky, as if he was the one in charge and not the man with the army of robots at his disposal. But that was silly to entertain, especially given how tightly Robotnik was holding his face. "How would teaching me discipline help me with my head?"

Robotnik chuckled darkly, exposing a bit more of his throat. They were almost nose to nose, so close he could almost taste the doctor's sweat. This was the moment Stone was all too familiar with, the charged energy building between their bodies, rising and rising, only striking when Robotnik so commanded. This was the moment when Robotnik's breathing increased and his pupils dilated and his cheeks went a gorgeous rosy pink. It made him look ridiculous. Human.

Gorgeous.

Stone sharply inhaled. Oh god, he didn't think that, did he? Not about his boss. Not about Ivo Robotnik.

"Stone," Robotnik said.

He couldn't stop staring at Robotnik's pink lips. Were they always so kissable?

"Get down on your hands and knees," Robotnik ordered.

To his credit, Stone did it all without shaking. Whether he would hypothetically shake from fear or excitement, Stone didn't know anymore.

"Stay there, and don't move an inch.," Robotnik said, disappearing for a short while to grab something from his desk. That act alone limited the possible punishments he might be given. What did Robotnik have planned?

He heard Robotnik's steps approach him. "You can move your head up now."

Stone did, taking his time to let his eyes trail up Robotnik's legs, torso, neck,before finally resting on Robotnik’s devilish face. In his hand was something circular but thick, wires and electronics sticking out of the fabric interior. It resembled a dog collar, but it was much thicker and wider than a normal one, with strange wires surrounding it. But Stone didn’t remember Robotnik owning a dog.

Stone gulped. It couldn’t be…that wasn’t for him?

“Don’t move a muscle,” Robotnik commanded.

“Sir, this is unconventional.”

“Oh, but you’re an unconventional man, Agent. I thought I was dealing with a government lapdog with a modicum of intelligence. But you’re so much more than that, aren’t you?”

Stone went silent, keeping his face neutral. Robotnik chuckled darkly as he undid Stone's tie, letting it drop to the floor. His lithe, leather-bound fingers traced the sensitive skin of his neck before clamping the collar on. It wasn't tight, but it wasn't loose, as if it was made for him.

"I must admit, you keep stumping me. There's no records about you. Nothing about the man you were before you became Agent Stone, what school you went to, your parents' names, whether your mommy tucked you into bed or not. Even I couldn't find anything." Robotnik leaned forward. "I find that very strange, Stone. Or whatever your real name is."

"Ben," Stone said quietly.

"Huh?"

"Ben Stone. My name," Stone swallowed tightly. "And as for everything else, I graduated the academy top of my class, I kept getting transferred to too many schools when I was a kid, my parents' names are Ali and Mary, and my mom tucked me into bed every night until I was 12."

"I've read your file—or should I say, I've read Stone's file. I know all about your cover identity. You're supposed to be an obedient little dog with a gun. And you know what happens to dogs that don't do what they're supposed to do?"

Robotnik pressed his thumb to a button on his gloves.

"They get a little _shock_."

An electric current rippled through Stone's neck, making him gasp, more in surprise than actual pain. It only lasted a second, but it was enough for all the muscles on his back to firm up in attention.

"Does it hurt?" Robotnik grinned.

Stone let out a chuckle. "You'll never hurt me, doctor. We both know you can't."

"Wrong answer," Robotnik said.

An another electrical current at a slightly higher voltage. Enough to make Stone wince, but still far from painful. It all but proved Stone's point. The doctor could take the air out of his lungs, but he was always careful never to harm him. 

Robotnik crouched down so he was face to face with Stone. His smile was condescending, but not completely malicious. The doctor was far too excited to be that cruel. "You're going to be wearing this collar all day. If you slip up even a little bit, I press a little button on my glove and you'll get shocked. The more times you slip up, the longer the electric shock lasts. I'll take it off when the shift ends. No earlier, no later. Understand?"

Stone stared at Robotnik for a few seconds, taking in those flushed cheeks and eager grin. This was a test, Stone realised, and he was the sole participant. Was the doctor's plan to reduce his will? To make him beg? Robotnik would love to see that, it'd stroke his massive ego even more, but Stone would never give him that satisfaction. He'd do many things, but not everything. It'd take away the fun.

Another chuckle escaped from Stone. Robotnik's lips thinned into a line. "What are you laughing about?"

"Don't I get a reward for this?" Stone smiled devilishly. "If I'm a dog, I deserve a treat for behaving, don't I?"

Robotnik smirked. "And why should I give you anything?"

"To reinforce behaviour. After all, isn't that why you put a collar on me?"

Instead of laughing, Robotnik scoffed sharply, the corner of his lips pulling up against his will. "Perhaps." He stood up suddenly and went to his chair. It spun approximately 70 degrees before Robotnik placed his feet down, grinding to a halt. "You know, Stone, all this talking and moving has made me thoroughly parched. A nice latte with steamed Austrian goat milk sounds like it'll do just the trick."

They both knew that the coffee machine was in the breakroom for the other guards, on the opposite side of the compound where the mobile lab sat. The chances that Stone would be seen wearing what was very clearly a BDSM collar were fairly high, but there was just as high a chance that the person who caught him would report it to both their superiors, and Robotnik wouldn't have that. This was just another one of those games of 'Simon says' that they played. A dare to see how far Stone could be pushed.

Stone slowly stood up, stuffed his tie into his suit pocket, and gave his most award-winning smile. He always liked a challenge. "Of course, _sir_ ," he purred.

Robotnik's cheeks seemed to get redder, but if he had something to say Stone didn't hear it as he opened the door and strolled outside.

Whether it was Stone's luck or some other supernatural force, the base was surprisingly empty given the time of day. Not that there weren't people, but the few he did pass seemed far too engrossed in conversation to notice him walking past. All the better for him. Less questions asked, less answers he needed to give.

In the breakroom were two coffee machines: one that was used fairly often and one that wasn't. Stone went to the latter, preparing the coffee beans (a special blend of his own creation based on a South American recipe) and steaming the goat milk and making the foam. The resulting latte is rather sweet, with a chocolate-y aftertaste. Not everyone's cup of coffee, but Stone liked it, and Robotnik loved it. It definitely earned him a few brownie points when he first came into the doctor's services.

Stone had just finished making a latte for the doctor (and of course one for himself because why not?) when he heard someone call out his name. "Stone?"

He turned his head, letting out a breath when he realised it was Agent Jared Aird: low-level government agent and high-level weirdo. In other words, the closest thing to a friend Stone had outside of Robotnik.

"What's up?" Stone asked.

"Someone's looking for y—" Stone winced suddenly as an electric shock hit him. Aird's eyes flickered between the collar and Stone’s expression, the dots connecting slowly but surely in his mind. "I, uh…OK then. I'll just talk to you later."

Stone stifled the need to explain himself. He didn't need to make this more embarrassing. “You said someone's looking for me. Not the doctor?"

"No, they're looking for you specifically. Or at least…it sounded like they were talking about you. Described you to a T."

"Name?"

"Called themselves Lara Stein." Before Stone could comment, Aird said, "Obviously a pseudonym. We’re pulling ID checks on her though. Should take at least an hour." Aird glanced at the collar and coughed loudly into his fist. "I'll just…tell her to come back later."

Stone didn’t know a Lara, or anyone that could be looking for him specifically. Not many people knew of Agent Stone, as part of the whole cover identity business. He shook his head. "Tell her to come after my shift's done, please. And, uh…don’t tell anyone about this.”

“I won’t, I won’t, we all know the doctor is a freak. But a shock collar? Bit kinky for his tastes.”

Stone let a frown slip. The doctor was strange, but certainly not a freak. He was a genius with limitless knowledge, unburdened by the expectations of society, but no one else saw him like that. Everybody thought he was dangerous. Everybody thought he was crazy. Not Stone though. Stone knew the doctor was just a drama kid with a need to please. Dangerous men weren’t capable of such innocent, child-like smiles when they tinkered away with their machines. Crazy men didn’t see the world with such fascination and awe.

Times like these reminded Stone that he might literally be the only person in the world who liked Robotnik, let alone tolerated him.

Stone forced a chuckle. “He’s certainly gotten some weird ideas lately. But I’ll manage.”

“I hope so,” Aird muttered with concern.

The trip back was equally uneventful, with even fewer potential witnesses. By the time he got back to the mobile lab, Robotnik was sneering at him, stamping his foot for dramatic effect.

"You're seven minutes late." Robotnik snatched the latte out of Stone's hand and took a sip. His face, as it often did when he drank Stone's coffee, softened considerably. "At least the coffee is the correct temperature this time. Nearly scalded my tongue yesterday."

Stone smiled warmly. The only compliments he ever got from Robotnik was for his coffee. Not that he minded. He made some damn good coffee, and any compliment from Robotnik was worth its weight in gold. "You're welcome, sir."

The rest of the day went surprisingly normally, give or take a few electric shocks here and there when Stone looked like he was daydreaming again. Robotnik did little to hide how much he enjoyed the way Stone twitched in surprise, catching him off guard. Even when Robotnik left to get a quick snack, his presence could still be felt on Stone' throat. The collar tethered him to the doctor, a physical mark of his servitude. It was sobering, realising how far he let himself get subjugated by Robotnik's whims, to the point of humiliation and shame. This was just the start, and if Robotnik got any more crazy ideas from BDSM, this might not be the last time he'd be punished like this. No more 'pin yourself to the wall'. It'd be 'get down on all fours and bark like a dog' or 'lick my shoes'.

He saw his wide grin in the reflective walls and forced himself to stop smiling. 

When Robotnik came back, he continued his usual work on his computer, stopping every now and then to quiz Stone on the collar and how it was working. After Stone answered, he would then ask him to write it down anyway. The first two times, Stone did it without question. The third time, Stone felt brave enough to ask Robotnik why he wasn’t taking the notes himself if he was so much smarter. He glanced over his shoulder, ready to ask, only to realise that the doctor was already behind him.

"Sir?"

Robotnik was silent as he turned Stone's chair to face him, his normally expressive face toned down into something that almost looked soft. He clicked a few buttons on his gloves, and then fiddled with a strap on the collar. It opened up easily, sliding down and off of Stone's neck, before gently being dropped on the nearby table.

Stone rolled his head slowly, frowning at the stiffness. The cool air felt so much colder on his now-sensitive neck, which was in stark contrast to the hungry flames in Robotnik's eyes. He felt like those women in those B-tier horror films, waiting on bated breath for the vampire to sink their teeth into his neck and make him feel the most writhing ecstasy.

"Does it hurt now?" Robotnik asked, his voice suddenly quiet. Unsure.

Stone glanced at the clock. "Is it time already?"

"Clearly you need to get your eyes checked as well," Robotnik huffed. He grabbed Stone by the jaw, twisting and turning his head to observe his neck. He let out a small tut. "There's a few spots of redness on your neck. Was it from the collar?"

"It didn't hurt," Stone said. Which was partially true. He was aware of a faint itchiness but they weren't painful. He got shot with a blank to the stomach once. No pain could compare to that.

"You should have told me. Or written it in your report. You have seen me work, you should know by now the importance of writing down every single observable detail for data collection."

Robotnik slowly tugged at the tips of his gloves, pulling them off his hand one by one. It was a simple act, done without show or boast, and yet somehow it was the most erotic thing Stone's ever seen Robotnik do. Stripping away his gloves felt no different from watching him strip away his clothes. The way he folded up his gloves so neatly, those dexterous yet thick fingers moving so freely now that they weren't bound to their cloth prisons. And the way they moved, gently tucking the folded gloves into one pocket before retrieving a small jar from another, was an act that was far too intimate for a scientist and his agent. And yet Stone stared at Robotnik, his neck exposed and his cheeks flushed, wondering if this was a dream.

The cool sensation of Robotnik's lotion-covered fingers on his neck quickly told him it was very much real.

"Doctor?" Stone breathed.

"Let me work," Robotnik replied, sounding out of breath himself.

"What is this?"

"It's just lotion from the supermarket. Won't cure the redness right away, but at least it shouldn't distract you any more than you've already distracted yourself."

This felt wrong, just as much as it felt right. There had to be a reason Robotnik was being so nice as to rub lotion on his neck. There had to be a reason why those dark eyes seemed so warm and brilliant. There had to be a reason why he was leaning in, drawn in to the dark fire.

"I'll ask this for the final time. Is there anything else about the collar that was uncomfortable? The fabric, the voltage, the tightness. Anything at all?" Robotnik dabbed his fingers and let his fingers dip lower, near Stone's nape.

It took all his willpower not to sigh or gasp. This didn't just feel good. It felt great. It felt amazing. How could one man's touch feel so amazing? "Why are you so concerned about whether the collar hurts or not?" Stone asked quietly.

"I'm going to be making improvements for next time. Obviously, I don't want it to harm my best agent."

Stone chuckled, if only to disguise the warmth creeping up his chest and dipping to his limbs. His smile must have been big and wide, but Robotnik was still applying the lotion with the kind of careful touch he usually only reserved for his robots. _Best agent_. The doctor thought he was the best. He was getting excessively giddy from those two words alone.

"Everything's good, doctor. Perfect as always." He smiled. "Have I been a good boy then?"

The question didn't register for Robotnik for several seconds, applying the lotion before stopping, his fingers paused near the tight ball of Stone's throat. He blinked rapidly, glanced up into Stone's eyes, then turned his head away abruptly. "You have, for once." He cleared his throat loudly. "You're lucky I didn't punish you firmer. I was hoping the collar would have more…observable results."

What was this energy floating between them? What was this urge to get closer? Their noses were almost touching and their breaths were fusing and it was making Stone dizzy. Despite his position, despite the creative punishments Robotnik could dole, he felt powerful. Like he could lean in and purse his lips and do whatever he wanted without consequence.

"So does that mean I get a reward?" Stone breathed.

Robotnik smirked. "You're not getting any more sick days from me."

"I wasn't thinking sick days, doctor."

"Oh? So what were you thinking? What's going on in that microscopic mind of yours?"

Stone pretend to think before grinning. "I'll let you decide, doctor. You're the genius."

Robotnik had stopped massaging the lotion, putting it back in his pocket and wiping his hands on Stone's jacket. His eyes were unfocused as he continued to stare at Stone's neck, as if scanning him for his blueprints, looking for weaknesses. It was so uncharacteristic and so firm that Stone wasn't sure he'd refuse any command Robotnik would give him. If he was asked to strip, he'd do it. If Robotnik bit his neck like a vampire, he wouldn't refuse. He'd do anything if it meant Robotnik stared at him like this, like he mattered, like only he mattered.

Was this really a punishment kink, or was there something more to what he felt? Did his feelings for the doctor perhaps run deeper?

Did Robotnik perhaps feel the same?

A knock on the door took both of them by surprise. Robotnik had stood up, quickly snapped his gloves back on, and pressed a couple of buttons. The security feed for outside flickered on, the edge of a white skirt flapping in the wind near the entrance. A woman in a white business jacket and skirt came in holding a file. Her eyes flickered around the room before narrowing on Stone.

"You must be Tariq," she said. "My employer has been looking for you."

For a second, time stopped, a bevy of uncomfortable, horrific memories surfacing. Then, in a flash, Stone had rushed forward with superhuman speed and punched her square in the face. She went out cold in an instant, her nose ruined and bloody, bruises already forming near her cheek where his knuckles had connected with the facial bone.

"Stone?!" Robotnik yelled. "What in tarnation is going on?"

He didn't react, instead searching the woman's jacket for something, anything. A file, a USB, an incriminating something or other. But nothing. Just her ID, and a card at maximum clearance level, the same level as Robotnik's and Stone's. The mysterious Lara Stein. Robotnik's legs seemed like jelly as he wobbled over to his desk and hurriedly typed away. Lara Stein's name was compared through hundreds of databases, but there was no one high enough to have maximum clearance. He tried to go through every filter, every database, too fast for Stone to comprehend, but even he knew that there'd be nothing. 

There was another knock on the door. Robotnik grabbed Stone by the shoulder and said, "Don't do it," but Stone shrugged it off and readied his handgun. The door opened, and Stone pointed his gun at the person who opened the door.

Behind that person was a swarm of G.U.N agents, all pointing their weapons at Stone. He recognised a few of them. Sarah, Flores, Jacobs, they were all here, and they were all blank and emotionless like dolls, or mannequins. A pity he couldn't reacquaint with them under better circumstances.

The person at the door shook his head casually. His military-buzz cut had now gotten a bit longer, and his face was sagging, but Stone knew this man all too well. 

"Still shoot first, ask questions later, huh, Tariq? Or should I say, Agent Ben Stone?"

Stone flicked his gun off safety. "My primary job is to protect my current charge, Commander. If you do anything to him—"

"Didn't you hear? We want to talk to you. Or, well…you would've heard it if you haven't bashed that poor girl's head in." He glared at Robotnik. "We only want to talk to Tariq."

Robotnik's eye twitched. "I am Dr. Ivo Robotnik. I've caused more wars than you’ve sired fatherless children. If you think I will—"

"Who do you think has been giving you those orders?" The Commander interrupted.

Robotnik's eyes widened. "You can't be…b-but the Commander is just some stupid character from a John Wick movie. "

"Doctor…" Stone warned.

"You are not touching my agent without my express permission,” Robitnik continued. “And since you've been so nice as to introduce me to your inferior weaponry, I shall introduce you to my means of destruction."

Stone grabbed Robotnik by the wrist, just as the turrets and sentires activated. He squeezed hard, hoping to the heavens themselves that Robotnik realised how serious this was. The Commander wasn't just any man. The Commander was a dangerous man who knew thousands of ways to kill and torture people. The Commander had a hand in every major war operation from the US since 9-11. The Commander had informants all over the globe, and was considered utterly untouchable.

The Commander was the man who taught everything Stone knew. And if someone was on his bad side, hell hath no fury.

Stone pressed a few buttons on Robotnik's gloves and the turrets and sentries deactivated. "I'll be back shortly," Stone said as he flipped the safety of his gun back on and holstered it.

"Stone?" 

"Wait for me," he said.

"Don't you dare go," Robotnik's voice warbled. "T-that is an order, Stone. You won't like me when you disobey me, so don't—"

But Stone stepped out of the mobile lab and toward the Commander. Neither of them said a word, because there was no need for them. Stone knew the Commander too well to not know what he wanted to do, and he was not going to disobey the Commander. As he followed the Commander and the G.U.N agents out of the compound, the man known as Agent Stone disappeared, and a different man emerged—identical and yet different—to take his place.

Actions have consequences. That was the first thing Stone was taught back in school, long before he was given the identity of Stone. When the headmistress initiated a slam campaign after Mr Khoury left, slandering him as a pedophile who liked young boys, nobody expected it to go viral on the internet and get him taken to court on criminal charges. She was a white lady with a respectable career and numerous connections, whereas Mr Khoury was a relatively young teacher who had yet to make his mark on the world. His family wanted nothing to do with him. His husband could only provide moral support. Legally, he was on his own.

No one would imagine a little kid like him to have that much pure anger and rage, to punch and kick and win in a fight against an adult. It didn't matter that she had started the fight by slapping him on the face for providing evidence to refute her lies. It didn't matter that he was trying to protect himself. It didn't matter that his parents whole-heartedly supported him, and even helped him retrieve the evidence. In the end, he was expelled, and his school record was completely tarnished. Mr Khoury was declared innocent solely due to lack of evidence, but no one would ever hire him again.

It'd be many years before people took interest in Stone. Until then, Stone kept his head down and his ears peeled, learning as much as he could about the world and the evil that festered within it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I now have a discord server for this fanfic. Come and join in through this link to the '[Experimental Design' discord server](https://discord.gg/vcYPe44), where you get sneak peeks and insights into my writing. Have to be 18+ only, since this is a NSFW fic.
> 
> Because of COVID, I'm going under tough times, so I'm opening up fanfic commissions. For just $5AUS dollars per 500 words, I'll write a Stobotnik fanfic based on your prompt. If you're interested, send me a message either here, or on my tumblr [@alphawave-writes](https://alphawave-writes.tumblr.com/) or my twitter [@alphawave13](https://twitter.com/Alphawave13)


	5. G.U.Ns and roses

Robotnik sat in an empty diner, tapping his fingers on the table in a constant, insistent rhythm. His eyes stared ahead, sharp and cold like a freshly-broken chunk of ice from an ice bag. And those icy daggers were plunging into the chest of a certain agent of his, the only other occupant in the whole diner after he forced a premature evacuation of the premises. The workers and the other agents were all outside, ordered to guard the premises. That just left the two of them inside. Stone could not escape. He could not hide. Not today. Not anymore.

"Doctor?" Stone asked after a few minutes.

"You were late," Robotnik spat venomously. This was a betrayal in every sense of the word, and he would make sure Stone understood his fury. "You told me to come here, and I did, and you came ten minutes late. And not only that, you disobeyed a direct order I gave you."

"Doctor…" Stone started. 

"I've been judging your current work performance, and based on today, you are fired," Robotnik said.

"Oh," Stone frowned.

"Yes," he said. "So it's not looking good for you, Agent Stone. Not unless you give me answers."

Stone let out an exasperated sigh. "Sir, it's not like I don't want to be honest with you, but it's all classified. If you could keep a secret, maybe I could tell you something, but—"

"I can keep a secret," Robotnik interrupted.

"Can you?" Stone asked incredulously.

After a few seconds, Robotnik grumbled under his breath, shoveling a spoon of disgusting diner slop into his mouth before pushing his plate away. This was the last time he made Stone choose the venue. The food here was horrible. "Then tell me what's not classified," Robotnik said.

"It's not that simple," Stone said.

"Then make it simple, if you want to keep your job," Robotnik sneered.

Agent Stone looked at Robotnik for several seconds, defiance flaring in his eyes. Robotnik watched, waiting for the moment that Stone might stand up and act on that defiance and reveal his true colours. Instead, he let out a sigh and did nothing. Robotnik was almost disappointed. He felt like he had cracked the shell of the man known as Ben Stone, but of course that was just a self-imposed illusion. He didn't even scratch the surface. Agent Stone wasn't just any ordinary man. Robotnik had his suspicions for a while now, but today proved it beyond all reasonable doubt.

Robotnik had to change tactic. He had to catch this imposter out. "You know the Commander of G.U.N," Robotnik said slowly. "How?"

"Classified," Stone said.

"Then why did he call you Tariq?"

"Still classified, doctor."

Robotnik's moustache twitched. "Is there anything you can tell me?"

Stone played with his cold, tasteless food with his fork, not taking a bite. He avoided Robotnik's gaze. "The Commander came here to tell me that he's investigating a report that's been given to him about us. From a certain Senator that we know."

"The Senator," Robotnik spat. "So why did the Commander go to you and not me? I'm your superior. It's not like you did anything that day." A partial lie, as Stone was the one to tie up the Senator and then drag his bloodied but still alive body back to his estate, but it didn't count in Robotnik's books. Stone had done far worst things before, in Robotnik's employ and, evidently, outside of it as well.

"He's aware of your reputation, Doctor. He knows you're behind the assault on Senator Willingham."

"Senator Willie-Nillie," Robotnik interrupted.

"Senator Willingham," Stone insisted. "And he wants you to be closely monitored. Says you're a threat to the state if you're not…contained."

"Contained?" Robotnik asked angrily. A brief image of his grandfather's face on the television flickered in his mind, and he gritted his teeth.

"This is classified too, but I thought you should know." Stone's face shifted into something more sympathetic. "He's willing to look the other way if I do a mission for him. I'll be gone for a bit. Not sure how long, but hopefully not too long. A few days at the most."

"Just say you're not working with me anymore and get out of my sight," Robotnik said.

Stone's brows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"If you don't want to work with me, if the government doesn't want you to work with me, just say it to my face. Abandon me, just like everyone else has. Go on. Do it!" Robotnik tried to sound angry but he couldn't help but sound a bit hurt. He didn't know why, but the idea of Stone leaving him filled with equal amounts of rage and sorrow. Why did it feel so painful to think about Stone leaving him?

"Who do you think I am? Do you think I want to do this? This isn't just any mission, this is a mission from the Commander of the Guardian Units of the Nations. I can't say no to an order from him."

"I don't know who you are, and that's exactly the problem! I was promised Agent Ben Stone as an assistant, and instead I got this stranger in a cheap suit. If you go, I'll be assigned some other incompetent fool who won't know their way around a toothbrush and I'll never be able to get anything done. And when that happens, it'll be all your fault, not mine."

Stone's confused expression softened into something akin to surprise. His face did something strange, his lips curling into a small smile as he chuckled, incredulous. "Doctor Robotnik, are you saying that if I go, you'll…you'll miss me?"

Robotnik turned his head away and huffed, not giving a straight answer. He didn't miss people. He wouldn't miss Stone when he was gone, that was what he convinced himself a long time ago, but now with that very possibility looming in the air, another strange mix of emotions overwhelmed him. At least these emotions he understood, the fear and sorrow and anger all mixing together to make a horrible hot pot. He's felt this horrendous mix of emotions before, on the day the child that was as close to a friend as he could get was suddenly adopted, leaving him alone in the cold, cruel orphanage with Mama. 

He dared a small glimpse at Stone's soft face and trimmed beard and fitted black suit, and felt something gnaw at his chest. It took all his effort not to whip out a data pad and note this down. First thing about experiments, the subject needed to be blind to treatment. A double-blind study would be preferred but impossible, given the experiment he was conducting. But what was his hypothesis? Figuring out his own emotions? Or was there something else he could identify? A more achievable goal. He just knew there was something about Stone that might be the key to breaking down this mystery.

Stone let out something between a huff and a chuckle, his lips pulled up into a small, nervous smile. "You're not dealing with a stranger. What you see is what you get, whether I'm Ben or someone else."

The corners of Robotnik's lips twitched upward. "So all that time you interrupted me with such inane, pointless things, that’s still the same?”

“I wouldn’t say reminding you about having lunch every now and then is a pointless thing, but yes, that was actually me.” Stone stared at his food for a whole minute before saying, quieter, “Given the choice, I wouldn't accept this mission, but I have to. He ranks above even you, doctor. You don't say no to G.U.N.”

"What is that neanderthal making you do?" Robotnik asked.

Stone winced, but said, "Surveillance mission, overseas. Terrorists trying to attack an island nation. I'm to go in with my old team and deal with them."

"Your old team?" Robotnik narrowed his eyes.

Stone didn't say anything.

Robotnik felt the rage bubble up his throat but he successfully suppressed it. This time. “You’re a G.U.N agent,” he said slowly. "You don't work for the government, you work for them." Robotnik let out an incredulous laugh. "Of course you are. Why didn't I see it? No government agent handles a gun as well as you. Only a military lapdog would be so obedient as to obey my every order without question. You worm your way through my ranks, waiting for my defences to lower. If your Commander ordered you to, you would kill me in an instant without blinking an eye."

Stone frowned. "Doctor, I'm not that kind of agent."

“Oh no, of course not," Robotnik said. "You're just working for the organization responsible for killing the last living relatives of my family. It's only the people who shamed my family name and ruined my life. No big deal,” Robotnik said venomously.

Stone stared at his lap, guilt stricken across his face.

“And of course you knew about it.” Robotnik scoffed cruelly. “Of course you did. Good ol’ reliable Stone. You can always rely on him to be competent at everything I don’t need him to be competent in. Like lying and deceiving me!”

“Sir, please."

“Open you mouth, and say ‘I will never lie to you again, sir. And please do punish me some more for my insubordination.’” Robotnik couldn't even hide the hurt in his voice anymore. The one person he tolerated—no, more than tolerated. The one person he might have even remotely cared about had to betray him. This always happened, Robotnik thought to himself. No one ever actually cared about him. They only ever used him and his intellect in the end, and when they've had their fill, they leave him in the dirt. This was why he worked alone. If he had no friends around, he had no one to stab him in the back. Et tu, Brute, indeed.

"S-sir, look, I’m sorry I—"

Before Stone could finish what he was saying, Robotnik had stuck his gloved fingers into his mouth and pulled him forward. Robotnik leaned forward himself, observing those round, dark eyes for any flicker of hesitation and guilt. Normally Stone yielded so easily, but today that flickering flame in his eyes burned brighter, ready to consume all but the most confident of men in the inferno until there was nothing left of their remains.

Robotnik thought he was confident. He thought when the opportunity arose to truly and utterly degrade Stone he would be ready. But right now, at the peak of his rage, years of hatred and venom and bile creeping up his throat, he found he had an unlimited amount of insults for G.U.N and the Senator and the world, but nothing for Stone. It was like his body refused to let him send one insult Stone’s way. Not directly anyway. Not for this man, who had been steadfast and earnest since the very beginning, who would do anything and everything without hesitation, whether it be to kill a person or to lick a shoe.

Robotnik hesitated, and for this little show of weakness he was consumed by the brilliant light of Stone's eyes. Stone's hand gripped Robotnik’s wrist, but he did not pull the fingers away from his mouth. Slowly, as his eyes firmly held Robotnik's gaze, he let his lips enclose around the fingers and began to suck lightly.

Robotnik sharply inhaled in surprise. He couldn’t comprehend what Stone was doing, why his tongue was slowly moving, wrapping around his gloved fingers as though they were made of chocolate. He couldn’t move his hand out even if he wanted to. Stone’s grip on his wrist was absolute. Why was he doing this? Why wouldn’t he stop?

Why did it feel so good?

The last thought brought a blush to Robotnik’s face. Good? What did feeling good meant anyway? This wasn’t the joy of a successful experiment, or the indulgent pleasure of a private dance party, or the smug affirmation as he corrected his so-called contemporaries time after time. No, this thrill was different, making him breathe heavy, unable to look away from that wide mouth and those pink, dripping lips and those dark crimson cheeks, pulling his mind away from experiments and punishments to instead contemplate the feel of that warm and wet mouth on his ungloved hand.

He felt this thrill only three times before. That time when Stone was about to lick his shoe, the day later with his sashaying hips and tight pants, and then earlier today, with a beautiful collar on his neck and a dazzling smile on his face. Always when Stone was around. Always tempting him with his face, his body, his presence, his scent, his everything.

This had to be Stone’s true plan. He was corrupting him from the inside out, torturing him with the slow slide of his tongue, making him feel thrills and pleasures he’s never experienced before so as to keep him weak and pliable. That perfect suction that got him reeling? Another weapon at his tool belt. Those soft hums? The sweet relishing of victory.

Stone was just using him like everyone else tried to…wasn’t he?

Stone's wandering tongue darted in between Robotnik's fingers, light flicks over the webbing of the gloves. “ _Sir_ ,” Stone moaned.

Robotnik pulled his hand away, a trail of saliva running between his slick fingers and Stone’s plump, crimson lips. Robotnik hastily wiped his hand on Stone’s jacket while the agent’s cheeks went crimson in shame. But even the simple act of rubbing his glove clean meant coming into contact with Stone, and even just touching his cloth-covered shoulder made another wave of indescribable thrill shoot up his spine. A little bit more of this and he might just explode. What he'd do when he exploded, even Robotnik himself had no idea. With Stone's face only a breath away, his lips so kissable and his neck so soft, Robotnik felt like he could give into his darkest temptations and dismantle Stone piece by piece, looking to see how his circuitry was laid out and how his systems meshed together. Perhaps Stone might let him this time. All it would take was an order and Stone would be putty in his hands.

Robotnik suddenly stood up and pushed himself away from the table, suddenly feeling dizzy. He headed for the door, the swirling mass of confusion emotions tugging and tugging at his mind, begging him to solve their mystery. Stone stood up to follow him but Robotnik put his hand up and the agent stayed put.

"I-I've wasted enough time here," Robotnik muttered.

"Wait, sir? Sir!"

"What?!" Robotnik snapped, keeping his face forward.

"I…am I still fired, or…?"

Robotnik didn't dare turn back and look at Stone. If he did, he might actually do something to Stone. He still did not know what. "I don't necessarily require an assistant for my work, least of all someone who doesn't understand or care about what I do," Robotnik spat.

"Doctor, we both know your work is amazing," Stone said. "The work you do will change lives, it'll change the world, I…I don’t claim to understand everything but I do know you are a brilliant man, and I do enjoy working for you. And this isn't just Agent Stone talking here, this is the real me as well. If you'd let me, I would like to continue my career underneath you.”

From the earnestness in Stone’s voice, he had to be speaking the truth. But how could it be? What man could enjoy getting manhandled day by day, forced to do the pettiest of chores? What reason would Stone have for enjoying his work? Why did such an insignificant little statement make the blood vessels of Robotnik’s cheeks vasodilate? Why did he want to smile so badly?

What was Stone doing to him?

Robotnik blindly reached for the door, just barely in view of all the other guards under Stone’s command, guarding the premises and holding the staff hostage. He couldn’t let him see his weakness. He thought of Mama at the Orphanage, that bully who ruined his first robot, the drunk driver who thought it convenient to plow their truck into his parents’ car, extinguishing both their lives and his chance at living an ordinary life. His face was cruel, and cold, and utterly inhuman. Good.

“Sir, you didn’t answer my question. Am I fired?”

Robotnik took hold of the handle and paused. “I’ll be reviewing you. By the time you come back, you’ll know if you’ll still have your job back or not.”

Before Stone could reply, Robotnik walked off into the darkness, the strange emotions still swirling and festering within, as mysterious and strange as the night. 

* * *

By the time Robotnik returned to his house, he thought he’d have an answer for the confusing swarm of emotions that plagued his mind. But like all the other times, he had nothing. The emotions rattling in his brain had amplified itself significantly, preventing him from doing anything more than stumbling into bed, stripping off his clothes and ordering his robots to chuck it all into a basket. Collapsed on the bed, he stared at the blank ceiling. 

There wasn’t much in his house in terms of furniture. Just the necessary things to make it livable and meet feng shui standards. If people asked, feng shui just made logical architectural sense, but it was condensed to magical tomfoolery to get the plebeians to believe it too. Robotnik thought it made his place look sleek and modern, but right now it gave him far too few things to distract himself, especially in his bare bones bedroom. So, the boring ceiling it was.

As the emotions bubbled and boiled, Robotnik felt his groin ache. He glimpsed down, scowling as his cock slowly rose to attention. Great. Another thing that needed to be taken cared of. Slowly he let his hand slide down his chest and wrap around the shaft, pumping it languidly.

What was he supposed to be doing? Ah yes, trying to figure out the cause of these mysterious and ugly emotions. Because that’s what emotions were in the end: ugly. They bypassed logic, made idiots of the intelligent, and refused to abide by rules and regulations. They were the first things Robotnik would remove if he could modify himself any way he liked. He didn’t need emotions when he had cold, hard logic and an army of robots at his disposal. He didn't need emotions overcomplicating simple issues. He didn't need to feel things for anyone, least of all Stone.

The cause of these annoying emotions was Stone. His cock seemed to react slightly, as if agreeing with the statement. Yes, Stone was behind all this, with his breathtaking smile and his warm laugh and his dark, smooth skin. It was all Stone’s fault that he was conducting this experiment, Stone’s fault that he had to punish him, Stone’s fault he was masturbating in bed.

“Damn you, Stone…” he growled under his breath.

His cock twitched as a sharp wave of warmth shot up his spine and spread all over his body. It felt warm, and right, even though it was all wrong. Robotnik never felt good when masturbating. It was just a myth propagated by the world. It had to be. Thinking about Stone couldn't suddenly make this loathsome chore enjoyable suddenly. There was nothing good or warm or right about sex. 

Robotnik glanced down to his throbbing cock, his body on fire, and began to adjust slightly, twisting his grip as he slid up to the head. Another pleasurable spike. An all too quiet gasp escaped his lips.

There were a million assumptions he could make, but all that flickered across his brilliant mind was Stone’s fault, Stone’s fault, Stone, Stone, _Stone_.

Before he could understand what he was doing, his other arm was reaching for the bedside table next to his bed, reaching blindly in the darkness. Eventually he found the bottle of cologne—the one he bought not too long ago for his scent experiment. He forgotten the reason why he brought the bottle from his bathroom cabinet to his bedside table, but even if he did remember, it ultimately meant nothing as he took the cap off, sniffed the dispenser, and shivered loudly. It still didn't smell like Stone, but it was close enough for his body to mistake it for Stone's scent.

His cock ached, and so he did what any sane, normal man would do. He sprayed the other, unused pillow of his King-sized bed with the cologne, brought the soft fabric up to his nose, and inhaled deeply. Another spike of lustful pleasure. Yet another blissful sigh escaped his lips.

Robotnik was bluntly aware of a thought circulating in his head as he stroked his cock faster. Thinking of Stone was bringing a reaction from his body. Was that not something he could study? Perhaps by thinking of Stone during this moment of rest, he might get one step closer to the meaning behind his feelings. If he had his wits about him, he would know it was an absolutely terrible experiment, but by this time of night, he was too tired and too distracted to argue. It was all for the pursuit of knowledge, and knowledge was power, and power was something that was worth its weight in gold. He let go of his tenuous grip on the logical side of his mind, letting his thoughts inevitably drift to Stone.

It started tame at first. Stone was business as usual with his dark suit and tie, his lips pulled into a breathtaking grin as he presented a latte. With a wave of Robotnik's hand, he pinned himself to the wall, still smiling his genuine, soft smile. And then the world shifted, the mobile laboratory transforming into the lush, velvet-lined bedroom of the BDSM club. Stone was half-naked, his shirt and jacket replaced with a very revealing leather harness, the collar Robotnik had crafted beautifully displayed on his neck. Robotnik would let his bare fingers curl into Stone's chest hair. It'd be thick, just like the air between them. Stone wouldn't look away or shy away. With flushed cheeks, he'd splay his hands on Robotnik's chest—who was also mysteriously shirtless too—letting his thumb roll over a blushing nipple.

Robotnik's breath hitched. He felt his climax rise up but before it might claim him, he gripped his cock painfully tight, willing himself to calm down. A small side of his brain, the sane side he'd later claim, was screaming at him, asking him why he was delaying their fulfillment and continuing this torture? But Robotnik continued to explore the images his brain conjured. It was science, not emotion, that drove his decision to pursue these visions. He felt nothing for Stone. This had nothing to do with what he felt about Stone. If he thought it, it must be true.

The scene shifted again, and now they were in an alternate version of Robotnik's own bedroom, the very one he was lying down in. It was lit differently, a number of scented candles expertly placed in various locations around the room, making it look homely and inviting. Stone was clothed this time, but only in his grey button-up shirt and his usual trousers. Like in the club, he took a step forward and breached Robotnik's personal space as he undid the buttons of Robotnik's shirt. But he did not stop at two like last time. Instead, he went further down, undoing more buttons until Robotnik's shirt was completely unbuttoned, exposing his chest and stomach.

The imaginary Stone looked up into Robotnik's eyes, smiled, and said, "You are the most amazing man I've ever met."

Robotnik's hand ached, he was pumping his cock so fast. Precum was beading at the tip, spilling onto his hand. He was absolutely making a mess of the bed and himself, and he was subtly aware that he wasn't being all that quiet, groans and moans muffled by the pillow, but he couldn't stop himself. Nothing could stop him now. He was so lost to the pleasure, to this world his imagination had conjured. The answer he was looking for was here, somewhere between the layers of this figment of his imagination. Perhaps this version of Stone might tell him why he felt this way. 

Stone inched his face closer so that they were breathing in each other's air. Stone's cologne was impenetrably thick. Their lips were almost touching. It felt so real, like Robotnik would feel something on his lips if they just leaned forward a little bit more. Would it feel different to all the other times his lips accidentally brushed over someone else's skin? He didn't know how, but he somehow knew the answer was a definite yes.

" _Stone,_ " the imaginary Robotnik said.

But the figment laughed softly, placing his hand on Robotnik's cheek. " _Not Stone. Not Ben. You know my real name is Tariq. Or at least, one of my many identities is named Tariq._ "

"Tariq…" He wasn't sure if he said it out loud or if the imaginary version of himself did. It rolled off the tongue nicely, leaving behind a sweet aftertaste, and that alone convinced Robotnik that it was Stone's real name. Tariq. How he'd love to taste that name more. Stone suited the man, but oh, Tariq suited him even better.

" _Give in,_ " the imaginary Stone said softly.

" _You first._ " His imaginary counterpart sounded so out of breath. The real version wasn't probably much better as his fingers dug into the pillow, taking in deep inhale after inhale of cheap cologne, getting closer and closer to the brink.

Another soft laugh. Another teasing, realistic grin. " _Oh Ivo, I already have. But you have to give in too._ "

The real Robotnik would hesitate. But this wasn't the real Robotnik, and any control he had over his mind was already gone. Robotnik could only watch, a stranger observing his own body as he leaned forward, kissed Stone fully on the lips, and promptly lost all reasoning as his brain erupted with a million pleasurable sparks.

It was just imaginary, but he could imagine the sensation of lips against his own, the sweet scent of sweat and cologne on his nose, the need and desire consuming his body like a fiery tornado. Shamefully, lewdly, Robotnik let out a long groan as he came into his own hand, his cum spilling down his legs to the bed cover. A wave of lethargy overcame him, and he collapsed backward, throwing the cologne-scented pillow away from his face and letting his eyelids drift closed, too tired to wonder why the thought of Stone kissing him felt so right and so wrong all at the same time.

* * *

Of course, Stone didn't return after a day. Or even two days. Which was good in a sense because Robotnik needed that time to purge the memory of that night from his mind. That alone had been enough to convince him that he should fire Stone once he got back. The agent might have been capable, yes, but he was starting to become trouble, and Robotnik did not need any more trouble. He didn't need to dwell any more on these confusing, disgusting feelings. 

But then the third day rolled through and Stone wasn't here. Robotnik was convinced that Stone got delayed, and the mission was taking longer. By the fourth, he only slightly entertained the idea that perhaps the mission didn't go as smoothly as either of them had hoped. By the fifth, Robotnik felt the tiniest bit of worry. Which he quickly dismissed, of course. There was no obligation for him to feel anything for Stone, regardless of what he did on the night he shall never speak of again, and the bevy of confusing emotions it unleashed.

By the sixth, he seriously contemplated that maybe, just maybe, he was worried that Stone might not come back. Not because he was in danger, but because Robotnik had pushed him too hard. It would be good riddance if Stone didn't come back into his employ. That confusing night in his bedroom all but confirmed that the root of his problem lied with Stone in some way. With him gone, the experiment might be a failure, but things would return to normal and he could work properly again. With no distractions he could deliver his best output, his best robots yet, his best everything. Nothing could hold him back anymore.

Logic dictated that this was the most likely outcome. In reality, Robotnik was staring at the numerous Badnik feeds, trying to find any trace of Stone somewhere out there in the world.

He didn't miss people. He wouldn't miss Stone when he was gone, that was what he convinced himself a long time ago, but now he knew it was completely untrue. He missed the perfect lattes with the steamed Austrian goat milk and the beautifully-crafted latte art that he pretended not to notice. He missed bossing someone around that bended so easily to his will, rarely questioning his motives, just doing whatever was asked. He missed the banter and the back-and-forth, the way that Stone always seemed to know exactly what he needed before Robotnik did himself. Always eager to prove himself. Always smiling warmly, and, weirdly enough, honestly.

Robotnik couldn't believe he didn't see it before. The evidence was all there. There was only one conclusion for this.

He missed Agent Stone.

He missed Agent Stone _dearly._

A knock on the door interrupted Robotnik's train of thought. "G-go away! I'm busy!" Another lie, but they'd never know that.

But the person kept knocking on the door insistently. Robotnik glanced at the security feed, only to see a very familiar face. He scrambled to get the door open, standing up and pulling back his shoulders and brushing his coat off, hoping he looked menacing and intimidating. He had a speech ready for the day Stone came crawling back to him.

When Stone came in through the doorway, Robotnik pushed all the relief and joy that crept up his chest, and kept his face carefully blank.

"I see you've wormed yourself back to me, Agent. Are you ready to beg for your jo—"

Stone collapsed in front of Robotnik's feet, going unconscious without a sound. Robotnik barely caught him, holding his torso up by his elbows. With a grunt, he pulled Stone to the middle of the mobile lab. He laid him down, ready to knock some sense into him.

That was when he saw the tear on Stone's shirt near his right abdomen and the blood soaking the material, leaving a trail of blood droplets from the entrance to Stone's body.

"S-stone?!" Robotnik grabbed him by the lapels and shook him violently. "Stone! Wake up! Stone?"

He slapped him on the face.

"Ben! If you don't wake up this instant, I'll fire you! You won't want that, so wake up, Ben!" Robotnik snarled.

Another pathetic slap. The colour from Stone's face was draining rapidly. His skin felt so cold even through the gloves.

"T-Tariq?" Robotnik whispered pathetically. "Answer me, Tariq."

The blood was beginning to trickle down to the floor slowly. Robotnik took in the bruises under Stone's right cheek, the dried-up blood that was not his own on his knuckles, the way his face looked almost peaceful as he slept, breathing in and out. In a strange way, he resembled Snow White, waiting for a prince to kiss him and wake him from his eternal sleep. But this wasn't a fairy tale. This was the real world, and it didn’t play by the silly rules of make believe land. The real world was cruel and merciless, and you had to be cruel and merciless to survive in it.

But…what if there was a kernel of truth? What would happen if he were to just inch his face forward and rest his lips against Stone's?

Slowly, gingerly, Robotnik leaned forward, inhaled the rusty scent of sweat and blood, heard the soft whispers of a chest slowly expanding and contracting, and rested his forehead against Stone's.

"Whoever did this to you, I'll make them pay," Robotnik said, bitterly trying to fight off the tears of relief and horror from rolling down his cheeks. "You better be listening. When you wake up, Tariq, I will not rest until they learn what happens when they cross Dr. Ivo Robotnik."

The corners of Stone's lips twitched up into the tiniest of smiles. Whether it was Robotnik's wishful thinking, a misfire in the circuits of his brain, or something else, Robotnik had no idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I now have a discord server for this fanfic. Come and join in through this link to the '[Experimental Design' discord server](https://discord.gg/vcYPe44), where you get sneak peeks and insights into my writing. Have to be 18+ only, since this is a NSFW fic.
> 
> Because of COVID, I'm going under tough times, so I'm opening up fanfic commissions. For just $5AUS dollars per 500 words, I'll write a Stobotnik fanfic based on your prompt. If you're interested, send me a message either here, or on my tumblr [@alphawave-writes](https://alphawave-writes.tumblr.com/) or my twitter [@alphawave13](https://twitter.com/Alphawave13)


	6. Bare bones

Stone woke up with a parched throat, a blinding headache, and an unnatural cold surrounding his body. His surroundings were dark, with a single light source above his head. He sat up slowly and opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings. He recognised the sterile white room, with its tiled white walls and floors. He glanced down, surprised to find he was wearing only his boxers and his socks. There was a large bandage wrapped around his abdomen that wasn't there before. Underneath him was a soft medical-grade bed.

Stone put a hand up to his head as the memories flooded back like a tidal wave. He remembered the rifle in his hands, the blaring alarms, the shouting voices and the deafening white noise of _something_ aimed for his back. He remembered the Commander saying something, just before Stone limped over to Robotnik's mobile lab. The last thing he recalled was Robotnik's carefully blank face breaking into surprise and worry.

He heard the sound of heavy footsteps on the floor as Dr. Robotnik came into view, snapping on a pair of latex gloves.

Stone knew he missed the doctor, but he had no idea how relieved he would feel when he finally saw him again. It was less than a week since he last saw Robotnik, but considering everything that's happened to him, it felt longer than that. That pompous moustache, that sharp glare, that weird greying stubble he could not get rid off no matter how cleanly he shaved, Stone missed it all.

“Doctor,” he smiled.

In an instant Robotnik was by his side, his expression focused yet vacant.

“D-doctor?”

Robotnik ignored Stone, leaning forward and harshly tugging at the bandages on Stone's abdomen. Stone gritted his teeth, waiting for the shocking pain, but there was nothing, not even a bit of tenderness. As he glanced down, his abdomen had completely healed over, fresh pink tissue healing where once there was just blood and muscle.

Robotnik folded the bandage and put it on a tray on the lone table in the room. Stone was still staring at his abdomen in wonder. He knew he went out cold, but there was no way he was unconscious for that long. Not for the injury he sustained. “What did you do to me, doctor?”

“Obviously I took that insipid spray-on skin product for burns and added a few nanoparticles of my design. Induces hemostasis, increases the speed of tissue regeneration, and well-tolerated by the body. Haven't had a chance to test this bad boy out, but I'm glad I get a human guinea pig to test it on.”

“That's amazing, sir.” Stone didn't understand a single word Robotnik said, but it sounded impressive. Even if it wasn't actually all that amazing, at least Robotnik was here and safe and well. God, how much he missed his voice.

“I know I am,” Robotnik smirked. “And so are you.”

Stone's breath hitched. Was this a dream? Was all this a very realistic dream he was having? Was he still dying in that carrier ship?

“Yes, you are amazing…ly idiotic.”

Stone bit back a frown of disappointment. Nope, this was reality, alright.

“Instead of getting yourself to the medical bay, you choose to bleed out in my lab?” Robotnik asked incredulously.

Stone ducked his head. Why _did_ he go to Robotnik anyway? It wasn't like the doctor's lab was closer than the med bay, and he certainly didn't know the doctor had this spray-skin-thing, whatever it was. And yet as he stumbled into the complex after being dropped off by the airship, delirious with blood loss, he decided to go straight for Robotnik. The man who never cared about humans. The mad scientist who dreamed of a world of machines. The psychopath that would shed allies off his skin like a snake if they proved to be no longer useful.

And yet that very man had fixed him up and bandaged him without a second thought. That man saved his life.

Stone swallowed, which was a little bit uncomfortable to do with his dry throat. He had to be careful about his choice of words. “Why did you tie me up? Where are my clothes?”

But Robotnik did not answer. Instead he asked in a low tone, “Are you thirsty?”

The doctor had mastered the art of the evil glare, perfectly unravelling someone down to their deepest insecurities, or at the very least make them extremely uncomfortable. The fact that Robotnik had utilised that move on Stone should make him scared, but all Stone could concentrate on was the proximity of their faces, the adam's apple just peeking over Robotnik's turtleneck, and those dark, impenetrable eyes. He shifted uncomfortably. Being this close to Robotnik in only his underwear was _dangerous_ , to say the least. 

Robotnik leaned closer, his hot breath hitting the shell of Stone's ear. “Answer me,” he quietly ordered.

Stone inhaled sharply. He felt dizzy with something. Not dehydration or fear. It was like there was something in the air that they breathed out from both their lungs, slowly eroding the invisible wall they've erected between their bodies.

“I am,” Stone whispered.

“You are, what?”

“Thirsty.” It took all Stone's effort to not stutter. “I am thirsty for some water, sir.”

Robotnik patted him condescendingly on the head, like a cartoon character would pet a dog. “Good to see your hearing is still intact.”

Stone tried his hardest not to smile at this quasi-compliment. As always whenever he was in the doctor's presence, that was impossible.

As Robotnik strutted away, the tension seemed to vanish if only temporarily, leaving Stone alone with his thoughts for just a moment, and those thoughts were all on Robotnik. This was probably one of the few times Stone had ever seen Robotnik without his coat, giving him a rare glimpse at Robotnik's backside proper. His posture was not military straight, but it wasn't slouched either. With every little movement, Robotnik's back muscles could be seen, flexing and stretching to an invisible rhythm that only Robotnik heard. Stone's eyes drifted downward to Robotnik's hips. With just that, Stone felt years and years of training wash away as a more primordial entity took control over his mind.

Stone thought a lot of things about Robotnik, but didn't think Robotnik's ass would look _that_ good.

OK, so it wasn't the most _spectacular_ ass he'd ever seen. That luxury would still go to Stone's second boyfriend Clark, who got butt augmentation surgery done as a 20th birthday present to himself. Still, Robotnik had a good ass, and that was not something Stone could say lightly, considering his own extensive background in the military and then with G.U.N. Now that Stone could get a proper look at him, Robotnik didn't have a bad body either. A little bit on the lanky side, but he made up for it by being deceptively strong. A fitting metaphor for his brilliant mind. And that was nothing compared to his high cheekbones and his devilish grin and the way he could purr out his commands with ease.

It never occurred to Stone to think about his boss this way, but Robotnik was strangely attractive. Not in a conventional manner, but then Stone never cared about conventional. Conventional was boring. Robotnik was _exciting_. 

As if on cue, Robotnik strode back with a pitcher of water. With his free hand he tilted Stone’s jaw back. “Open your mouth and drink.”

Stone's brows furrowed. “I can drink it myse—glggh!”

With little ceremony, Robotnik tilted the pitcher into Stone's lips, splashing a little bit as he tipped it to the correct angle. Stone swallowed and gulped, letting the cool water caress his throat, drinking as much as his pitiful throat could handle until Robotnik mercifully tilted the pitcher upright and dropped it on the tray beside him.

Stone wiped his lips, breathing heavily. “I-I could’ve drunk it myself. I’m not that weak.”

Robotnik’s lips thinned. “But you are feeling weak?”

“I don’t, actually.” Which was strange in and of itself, but Stone had a feeling Robotnik had something to do with that as well. At least he felt like a flesh and bone human, and not like a cyborg. He didn't want a Inspector Gadget scenario to occur with him. Stone still thought it was absolutely ridiculous that the first Inspector Gadget movie was the doctor's first introduction to Matthew Broderick.

Of the numerous crimes Robotnik has committed, not seeing Ferris Bueller's Day Off in this day and age was probably in the top 3 of Stone's list. One day he'll rectify it. 

Robotnik gingerly placed his hand on Stone’s healing wound, watching him for any sign of discomfort or pain. “Who did this to you?” He asked lowly.

Stone turned his head away. “It doesn’t matter.” He couldn't disclose any more classified information than he did.

“It very much matters,” Robotnik sneered. “This isn’t just any weapon. This is an infrared pulsed electrical projectile you got blasted with. At the sheer electromagnetic intensity you got hit with, it would have disintegrated your flesh faster than you can sing the Thai alphabet.”

Stone scrunched his brows as he tried to remember whether the Thai language even had a proper alphabet to sing.

“This kind of weaponry wouldn’t be used by anyone,” Robotnik continued. “I’ve developed one version of it for my own personal use. But the other versions? Only a few have access to it. And they would know what kind of weapon they were utilizing if they dared to hit you with it.”

“I got lucky,” Stone said, even though that was only partially the truth. He had protective equipment of course, but he chucked it all away before he got to Robotnik. “A lot of us weren't as lucky. It got messy.” He bit back a frown. _Very messy_ , he didn't add.

Robotnik pressed his hand on Stone’s chest, the dull edge of his fingernails just barely felt beneath his latex gloves as he tugged at Stone's chest hair. “You said you were to go against an island nation. Tell me exactly what island nation it was.”

Stone suppressed a warm shiver as he stared back into Robotnik’s eyes. “You know where I went.”

“I want to hear you say it.”

“Soleanna,” he admitted. “I was in Soleanna.”

“As I thought.” Robotnik trailed his hand down, pressing his fingers into Stone's toned stomach. His touch was light, intoxicating, but brief as it travelled up, past his sternum and neck to cup his jaw. His touch was gentle, like he was handling a piece of fragile machinery, even though they both knew Stone was far from fragile. It made Stone feel like Robotnik might have cared about him. That perhaps he mattered to the doctor. That perhaps Robotnik might touch him more intimately like this under different circumstances, alone and shut away from the world, breathing in and out their secrets and never revealing them to another living soul.

Robotnik's fingers shifted, and warm heat shot from Robotnik's touch into Stone's blood vessels, heating him up from the inside. Stone had no idea if the heat was intentionally evoked by Robotnik or not. 

“A Soleanna guard shot you.” Before Stone could stutter out a _how did you know_ , Robotnik continued, “They're one of the few who even have PEP weaponry. The only others are G.U.N, and the only reason they even have it is because of my work, back when I worked in their R&D department.” Robotnik squeezed Stone's jaw lightly. “G.U.N wouldn't shoot you, would they?”

“O-of course not,” Stone stuttered. He suddenly thought of Robotnik with a gun, pushing it into his temple or his mouth, forcing him to suck on it like it was a cock. Stone shifted on the bed, trying his hardest not to imagine what Robotnik's cock might taste like. Would Robotnik look as dazed as when Stone sucked on his gloved fingers that one night, or would he have a different reaction? Would his cheeks heat up like Stone's did?

“And how many of these 'terrorists' did you dispatch? How many Soleanna soldiers did you kill?” Robotnik asked.

“I can't remember.” Stone was too distracted imagining himself sucking on the shell of those pink ears. They looked like they'd be delicious. “T-too many,” he guessed.

“Did you hesitate?”

He shook his head, frowning. “No.”

Robotnik suddenly smiled. “You don't think about the families you've destroyed? The destruction you've caused?”

Stone stared into Robotnik's eyes but only saw his own reflection within those dark irises. He felt like he was hypnotised, his body being pulled apart molecule by molecule. Like Robotnik could bridge the gap between their bodies and have his wicked way with Stone, biting and kissing at Stone’s bare skin with that ferocious little grin. He could not answer. He didn't need to. Robotnik already knew.

“You didn’t,” Robotnik uttered. “Not a single thought on the lives you took. All you cared about was your mission. Your single-minded brain was focused on one and one thing only.”

He wasn't wrong. Stone was focused on one thing only, and that one thing was Robotnik’s pink lips. They were chapped slightly. The doctor hadn’t been putting on his lip balm lately. Actually, it looked like he hadn’t shaved properly since Stone left on the mission, his stubble more pronounced, growing in patches over his face. Would it be soft or prickly against his skin? Would those chapped lips feel pleasant against his own? Would it help if Stone licked them?

Robotnik tilted Stone’s head up, his smile devilish.

“You do whatever you’re told, don’t you, Tariq?”

Stone sharply inhaled. Robotnik knew it was his real name. It sounded so sweet from his lips. Would his real surname sound just as sweet from Robotnik’s throat?

“I think I figured you out. You’re not a petty human.” Robotnik leaned forward until his lips were a breath away. “You’re a machine. You’re _my_ machine,” he whispered.

Stone suppressed the loveliest shiver to roll down his spine. Robotnik had always said from the beginning that he only cared about his machines, that they were the only things that did their tasks perfectly. To be Robotnik’s machine, prized beyond belief, to be used at his disposal, it shouldn’t sound so tempting. But he wanted it. He wanted Robotnik to use him. He wanted Robotnik to treat him and care for him and care about him. He wanted that insufferable smile, that devilish pride and irresistible intelligence. Most of all he wanted Robotnik to look at him like he looked at his prized robots, with something akin to love and affection.

Stone felt his heart skip at the mental image of Robotnik beaming down on him. No. No no no. He wasn’t. He couldn’t. He shouldn’t be in love with Robotnik. He could not be in love with his boss.

“Tariq,” Robotnik purred. “I only trust machines in my employ. So tell me, are you man or are you machine?”

To his own surprise, he did not hesitate. “I’m your machine, sir,” he breathed.

Robotnik never smiled so triumphantly before. “Good boy, Tariq.”

Robotnik dramatically whirled around, rolling the latex gloves expertly off his arms and flinging them into the nearest bin with a swish. Stone shivered, suddenly aware of the cold air conditioner blasting against his skin and the warmth filling his veins at the compliment Robotnik gave him. He could breathe again, but he had gotten far too used to that choking atmosphere, of Robotnik so close to be tasted, a breath away from imminent destruction.

He had always admired the doctor. He made no secret of it. But today it felt like something had changed dramatically. Like everything around Robotnik was more saturated in colour. He couldn’t look away from Robotnik and the tiny sliver of his wrist and the smallest roll of his shoulders, the way his dark eyes drifted back onto Stone, lingering for a second too long on Stone’s form.

This wasn’t admiration, he slowly realized, and this wasn’t some weird kink he had. This was warmer, softer, more intimate. And it was all because of Robotnik, that damned Robotnik, that amazing and intelligent and childish and petty and handsome Robotnik.

There was no denying it. This was love.

He loved Dr Ivo Julian Robotnik.

He loved his boss.

Shit.

Stone suddenly stood up, stumbling in wobbly legs. He had to get out. This could not be true. Of all the people he had to fall in love with, it could not be his boss. Not now, not when he still had so much to prove, to the world and to himself. Not when he was still so far beneath the doctor's level.

“Where are you going?” Robotnik snapped.

Stone gestured weakly at the door. “Out. Home. Somewhere.”

“Oh no you don’t.” Robotnik crossed the room blindingly quick and forced Stone to sit back down on the bed with his strong, ungloved hand. “I haven’t finished with you. I still need answers.”

Stone bit back the urge to moan from the rough way Robotnik pushed him back, instead redirecting his attention to the frustration building in his chest. It worked a bit too well. “Is that all you care about? Answers? Results? Nothing about how or why I got shot? About what I did on this mission?”

“Even if I asked, you’re going to give me that ‘classified’ spiel. And you’ve made it clear you won’t tell me anything about who you really are.” Robotnik sounded a little hurt from that last statement. 

“Not by choice, I…do you know what happened? I'll tell you. I was supposed to investigate Soleanna with my old squadron. I was supposed to go in and wreck this complex of factories and leave no witnesses. But it was all an ambush. They were waiting for us, these Soleanna assassins. If I didn't act on my feet, we could have all died. I wouldn't even be here to tell you this.”

“I told you not to go with G.U.N,” Robotnik shook his head, scoffing. “Of course they didn't consider such an obvious possibility. I would have at least five different backup plans for every individual and every organisation that could potentially betray me.”

“Do you know what would have happened if I said no to G.U.N? They would have ransacked your laboratories, all of them around the globe. They would have taken everything away from you, just like they took everything from your grandfather before you. They would have _ruined_ you.”

Robotnik’s lips twisted, his eyes not meeting Stone’s. “You wouldn’t have lost anything. You'll just find another hapless scientist to serve beverages to. Why do something you clearly didn’t want to do for no benefit at all?”

“But then I wouldn’t be working with you, doctor. I did it so I could continue to work with you.” Stone took a shuddery breath, worked up the nerves and said, quieter, “I do care about you.” A lot more than I should, he didn’t add.

The mask on Robotnik's face cracked, his face going through a variety of different expressions, unable to find one that was suitable for the swell of new, confusing emotions. He eventually settled on something remarkably hurt and vulnerable. It was heartbreakingly beautiful. 

“You shouldn’t care about me,” he croaked. “No one does.”

“Well, unfortunately for the both of us, I do.” Stone reached up and put a hand on Robotnik's shoulder. “And if I may be bold, sir, I think you care a little bit about me too.”

Robotnik flinched, but did not push Stone's hand away. He still wasn't looking at Stone. “And what gives you that idea?”

“You didn’t let me die,” Stone said. “You treated me yourself.” He pressed his fingers tightly, feeling the tight muscles. “You didn’t kill me.”

“I could,” Robotnik said lowly, still not pulling away.

“Could you?”

Robotnik’s lips fell. “I could make your life a living misery.”

“Could you?” Stone pulled slightly, bringing their bodies closer.

Robotnik was now staring at Stone with those wild, desperate eyes. “I-I could…I could…” He fell silent, the cold realization washing over his face.

It was the first time Stone had seen Robotnik look so defenseless, like a child lost in the adult world, making new toys to make their tragic, horrible world brighter and better. He stared at Stone’s lips, words rising and falling with his lungs, never leaving his throat. If Stone were a crueler man, if he was what the doctor assumed he was, he might just leave Robotnik to stew and think about why he could be so weak in this moment. But Stone wasn’t that cruel. Far from it.

Stone slid his hands up over Robotnik’s cheeks. “You care,” Stone said simply.

“Care,” Robotnik said, as if he’d never said the word before. He might not have. His face suddenly scrunched up, his last defense mechanism activating. “I don’t…I-I don’t care. Not about you, not about anyone, not even about humanity. All I care about is this," he pointed at Stone's injured side, "that injury, and the weapon that caused that injury. That technology is mine. I know my own work better than anyone. No one takes what is rightfully mine.”

Stone frowned. “Is that really all you care about?”

“Absolutely,” Robotnik lied.

Stone glanced around the room, crossing his arms around his body. He could argue more, but he was tired all of a sudden, and he gave up the idea of pushing it further. It was wishful thinking on his part, that Robotnik might have cared about him. Of course Robotnik didn't. Of course not. “You wouldn’t know where my clothes are, do you?” Stone asked.

Robotnik frowned. “Your clothes are in tatters.”

“I kinda need to wear something. I need to go home. It’s late.” He assumed it was late anyway. He had no idea what day it was, or what time it was.

Robotnik stared at Stone for several seconds before going to the end of the room. When he returned, he quickly shoved a black coat into Stone’s arms. Robotniks’s coat, Stone quickly realized. The red trimming and the lush material and the faint scent of fizzing copper—similar yet distinct to the scent of blood—was evidence that it was the doctor’s.

“I will not allow you to ruin my reputation by going out in your rags or your underwear,” Robotnik explained quickly. “I expect my coat to be dry cleaned by the time you arrive tomorrow morning. Any speck of dirt or dust, any later than first thin in the morning, and there will be consequences.”

“So does that mean I’m…I’m still under your employ?”

Robotnik turned his head away suddenly. “For now,” he uttered.

Robotnik still kept his head turned away, and it was only then that Stone understood that Robotnik was waiting for him to get dressed. He slipped himself into the slightly-too big coat, one hand gripping the front to keep it closed. It still exposed his calves, and he might get some funny looks if he lingered around the base like this, but it was more than enough for a quick trip back to his car. And the warmth of this coat. It almost felt like the doctor was hugging him, wrapping his arms around his body and trapping him in a lovely cocoon.

A quiet, relieved chuckle bubbled out of Stone, quickly turning into polite laughter. Robotnik's face scrunched up in confusion. “What are you laughing at?”

“N-nothing, I just…I guess I was right about something today,” he smiled.

“About what?” Robotnik narrowed his eyes.

“That you do care about me.”

Robotnik settled his eyes on Stone, his gaze dragging further down, down, away from Stone's face to his exposed legs. The smallest smile crept up his face. “Go home already. I don't need you to slack around tomorrow when you inevitably don't get enough sleep.”

“Rich coming from you,” Stone mumbled to himself, too quiet for the doctor to hear. He stood up and slid his feet back into his tattered shoes, clutched the dark coat tightly around his body, and headed for the exit. His hand went for the door scanner and paused. He turned around, daring a glimpse at Robotnik, who pretended to busy himself with his nails.

Stone smiled to himself. He shouldn't do this, shouldn't say this, but he felt he owed Robotnik something for saving his life. And he knew exactly what he could give in return.

“Tariq Hajjar,” Stone said, barely louder than a whisper.

Robotnik whirled his head in astonishment.

“My real name. It's Tariq Hajjar,” he continued. “Do with it whatever you like.”

Robotnik tilted his head, trying his hardest not to smile. He failed this time. “You do realise what I can do with just that information alone. I could find all your dirty secrets with just the tap of a button.”

“I know,” Stone smiled. “Good night, doctor.”

As he opened the door and went out into the brisk, cold air, he thought he heard Robotnik whisper, “Good night, Stone”. He shook his head, a giddy grin spreading across his face. It was probably wishful thinking, but he was getting warm just thinking about the way Robotnik's stare swept over his body, as if admiring him. It might’ve been the first time Robotnik stared at anything with the tiniest bit of sexual interest. It probably didn’t matter in the end. The chances of the two of them getting romantic were slim to none. Workplace romances were frowned upon, and he certainly did not need to recreate the plot of ‘The Bodyguard’. The doctor would probably ban all relationships if he could. It was impossible.

Still, imagining Robotnik smiling down warmly for once, his gloved hands gently caressing Stone’s face to lean in for a tender kiss, certainly put a smile to his face. And who knows? Maybe that day might come. Maybe they might kiss and be one with each other, and it will be just as right and wonderful as Stone imagined it would be.

After all, Stone knew the doctor cared. Maybe he just needed a bit more of a push.

* * *

_Stone did not expect the explosion. No one did. Not his squadron, not the Soleanna soldiers he was fighting, and certainly not G.U.N. It exploded in the distance, raining fire and metal from above, plumes of black smoke choking the sky._

_The tiniest distraction was all he needed to get the advantage, shooting and killing two and incapacitating a third. He tapped at his ear._

_“Guys? What happened?” A bit informal, but then any formality went out the window after this fight. It should not have happened, no one should know he and his team was here. This was a surveillance mission, to spy on an illegal weapons factory. Soleanna soldiers should not be protecting such a factory, and he should not have to resort to deadly force._

_“One of the neighboring factories caught fire. A detonated charge of some kind. You have to evacuate now,” the intel officer said._

_Stone frowned. “Team Rock? Status report.”_

_All he headed was static as the intel officers tried to patch him in._

_Stone gulped. “Were they…?”_

_More silence. An admission of guilt. The team had split up to check the other factories in the compound, before they got ambushed. If they didn’t die in the blaze, they must have perished in the gun fight._

_Stone suppressed a shiver, recalled his training, and centered his emotions. The time for mourning was later. The Commander was expecting him to do a good job, and Stone will do it. If not for him, then for himself. If not for himself, then for Doctor Robotnik. He wanted to go back. He missed him so badly._

_Adrenaline pumped through his body as he plowed through, grabbing a gun from one of the dead bodies. With military efficiency, he wiped out any who stood in his way and got outside. The airship was flying low, waiting for his signal to drop down and pick him up. Big and menacing and eerily quiet, it was yet another vehicle inspired by the doctor’s early work for G.U.N, and the reason Stone agreed to interview to work for Robotnik in the first place._

_He ran to the coast next to the factory, the airship on its way to drop down. The bulletproof metal slowly creaked open, allowing him temporary passage._

_And then he heard the crack of lightning. His instincts propelled him to the side, the laser blast hitting his side, completely destroying his bulletproof vest and the underclothes beneath._

_He staggered, but remained upright, limping into the carrier. A hand reached out towards him; the Commander’s hand, hard and cold and imposing like the man itself. Stone took it and let himself get lifted into the vehicle, the metal doors creaking closed._

_Before it closed, he got a good look at the Soleanna soldier who shot him, and especially the other man trailing behind him, wearing flowing white robes with numerous ornaments across his body. He’d seen that man somewhere, but he couldn’t remember where from. The man gave a malicious glare at him._

_No, not at him. At the Commander. At the man still cradling Stone in his arms, steadying him as the doors shut fully and the airship took flight once more._

_“Who was…who was that?” Stone managed finally._

_The Commander frowned, his eyes lowering as it often did when he was deep in thought. “Hopefully someone you won’t have to deal with, Tariq. Hopefully.”_

_Stone nodded dumbly. “I did the job. You promised. You can’t reassign me from Dr. Ivo Robotnik.”_

_“You deserve a charge that will treat you better. Not this dangerous egomaniac that could blow you up into smithereens if he felt like it.”_

_But Stone laughed softly, his eyelids fluttering, getting heavier with every minute. He was getting delirious from blood loss but he couldn’t care. “You don’t understand, Commander. We deserve each other. If I left, he’d crumble. I’m his Stone.”_

_The Commander shook his head. “Always the stubborn one, Tariq,” he whispered as Stone drifted away into unconsciousness._

* * *

It turned out none of the dry cleaners would be open and have the time to properly clean the coat by the time Stone had to go to work, which basically meant Stone had to do it himself. But somehow he did. The teleporter pad to Robotnik’s other laboratories around the world did help a little bit in achieving this monumental task. Now it smelled brand new, and not like Stone had done some self-pleasuring into one of its sleeves. Not that he did that, even though the thought did cross his mind more than once that night. In his defence, it's a deceptively _soft_ coat.

It was a shame to have to part with Robotnik’s coat. Maybe in the future he could get his own mad scientist coat and have matching outfits with Robotnik. Or would that be too similar to couple outfits? Did it matter if they were terrorizing some population of people? Would Robotnik care if Stone dressed up in the same outfit as him, or would his massive ego get stroked even more at the possibility that someone liked his style? Once he figured out Robotnik's tailor and saved his money up a bit, he might be able to get his own coat, one that he wouldn't mind getting dirty a bit if the mood came to him. 

As Stone stepped into the laboratory, Robotnik was lounging beside his computer. His gaze swept up to Stone as soon as he entered, appraising his appearance slowly. His eyes honed in on the coat draped over Stone’s arm.

Without a word, Stone handed it over to the doctor, who observed the fabric closely and smoothed his gloves, no doubt analysing for some foreign contaminant. Then Robotnik took it up to his nose and sniffed it loudly. “Hmm,” he hummed. “This was an amateur job, which means either you didn’t go to the dry cleaner I specifically asked you to go to, or you did this yourself.”

“Doctor, it's not even open today. Even if I went, they wouldn’t be able to dry clean your coat in 5 minutes.”

“Oh, talking back now? Getting complacent about your role here?” He flicked his hand to the wall. “Pin yourself to the wall.”

Stone bit back an excited grin as he put his hand to his chest and pushed himself back to the nearest wall. Robotnik was in front of him, so close he could be tasted, the air choking of his presence.

He loved it, not that he would ever admit it to the doctor, not unless he wanted to get punished.

Although…come to think of it, if he were to act out of line, how would Robotnik punish him this time? Perhaps it might be worth the risk. Stone liked a bit of danger, after all. Wasn't that why he agreed to work for Robotnik in the first place? The danger and wonder?

“Agent Ben Stone, real name Tariq Hajjar,” Robotnik said. “I could punish you right now. Remind you of your place here.”

Stone waited for the ‘but’.

“—but lucky for you, I’ve got bigger fish to fry.” He put his hands as far as they could go. “And right now we're cooking a blue whale.”

“Isn't a blue whale a mammal?"

But Robotnik didn't hear as he glided away and typed frantically on his computer. Images of the island nation Soleanna flickered by, too fast to be comprehended. They were all landscape pictures, showing the beautiful coastline, the Venetian inspired buildings, the gorgeous waterways, and finally the gleaming gold and white castle.

“Soleanna. Just off the coast of Italy. British-ruled for a time, so the main language is English. Despite being a world leader in marine biology and marine technology, it had a decrepitly ancient Monarchial system as its governing body. And its ruler? Duke Vittorio. A man who singlehandedly revolutionised his country to not just the modern age, but far beyond.”

An image of Duke Vittorio flickered up and Stone felt his heart drop. That was the man. The one with the white robes. The one that glared at the Commander with that evil stare. It might've even given Robotnik's evil stare a run for its money.

The image flickered on the screen, and a new image took its place. It was surveillance pictures from the Badniks, taken of some Soleanna soldiers carrying a mysterious weapon. A weapon that Stone had only encountered once yesterday.

“My hunch was more than correct. They’ve stolen my technology, and they’ve commercialized so it could be in the hands of these pathetic tinker toys? Imitiation may be flattery, but this is theft, and theft means war.”

Stone turned to Robotnik. “You’re not suggesting…”

Robotnik smirked cruelly, cutting to the last image of Duke Vittorio. “This man is not any common fool. He has an expert knowledge in energy field technology. This is no mere mistake. He has purposely converted my technology for his asinine purposes.” He clicked a button on his gloves and the badniks hummed to life. “I think it’s time we taught him just how far my inventions have come since then, shall we?”

Stone could only smile politely even as he felt the evil within Robotnik fester and bubble within Robotnik. A similar but sharper evil from the one bubbling within Stone. “We shall, Doctor. No one messes with us.”

When Robotnik grinned, Stone couldn't help but match it. This was personal.


	7. Human vs machine

Tariq Hajjar: 36 years old, no siblings. Born and raised in America by his Lebanese-American parents Naima Hajjar and Rashad Hajjar. Moved schools after some unknown controversy, and then shortly afterward lost his father to a hopped-up supremacist targeting Muslim communities, back when tensions between the Middle East and America were much, much worse. After that, there was nothing. Or rather, there was something there hidden expertly by the government but the bread crumbs of its existence were still there. Robotnik could probably look into it, dig deeper, but he didn't. And the fact he chose not to pry further was certainly unusual. Knowledge was power, and power was absolute. Letting just a slip of information go away was akin to weakness, and Ivo Robotnik was far from weak.

Still, that only left Robotnik's own knowledge to fill in the blanks. Stone would have to be smart and strong if G.U.N thought a government agent would be his best cover. He must have went straight to G.U.N, probably passed whatever tests he needed to with flying colours. He was good with a gun, but Robotnik imagined he'd be especially proficient in hand-to-hand combat. He had the right build for it, with his firm biceps and strong thighs and broad, soft hands.

Robotnik felt something tighten within his chest and slapped his face. Not again. He was not imagining Stone naked again.

“Doctor?” Stone asked.

“What?” Robotnik barked, hoping Stone could not see his blush.

“Can I use the bathroom?”

Robotnik stared at Stone as if to see if the man really was an imbecile. Evidently, he was. “Do I look like Miss Crumby, the English teacher who would rather a child pee at their desk than let them take a bathroom pass because they did not say the word ‘please’?”

“No…?”

“Then go already.”

“Which one?”

“Quite obviously the only bathroom that is in this aircraft. Or do I need to teach you how to flush as well?”

“I'm only asking because…you know what? Never mind. Excuse me, Doctor.” Stone sat up awkwardly from his seat and went to the bathroom near the back of the plane. The light flickered from green to red. At least Stone knew how to lock a door.

It wasn’t often that Robotnik got to fly the jet. Of course, since it’s a vehicle of his design, he didn’t even need a pilot. Everything was completely automated, with two complex AI of his own creation acting as pilot and co-pilot, taking him to his destination with just a few simple commands. Worse come to worse he could manually take over and maneuver the jet himself, and in the absolute worst case scenario, the cockpit could detach from the body of the jet and hover on its own emergency fuel. There was the slight issue of going into airspace unregistered, but since when did idiotic rules like that ever stop him?

His fingers hovered over a bookmarked tab on his personal computer. A guide on BDSM that he found on the internet that was quite thorough. It had given him plenty of ideas for Stone’s punishment in the past. A lot of them were obviously focused on the sexual nature and the gratification of such an act, but surely Robotnik could reconfigure it to suit his needs. And if he enjoyed the image of Stone fully and completely at his mercy, that was his prerogative. There was nothing sexual about torture. Nothing sexual about having Stone kissing Robotnik's shoe, begging for forgiveness. 

The light flickered back to green and Stone returned, taking his seat opposite Robotnik. Robotnik silently cursed himself for almost giving into temptation. Thank goodness he didn’t actually click on that site. He did not need to give Stone any more weaknesses to exploit.

For a few minutes there was nothing but silence between them. Robotnik tapped away at his computer while Stone kept his hands folded in front of him, staring blankly forward. It unnerved Robotnik, and not just because he was researching different types of knots for his next ‘punishment’. Stone’s blank stares had taken on a new nature as of late, piercing through Robotnik as if to fiddle with the circuit boards and wires that ran through Robotnik’s body. Robotnik felt vulnerable beneath those stares, and he hated vulnerability.

He closed his computer and stared back at Stone, who quickly averted his gaze. If Robotnik paid close enough attention, his gloves would have told him that Stone’s heart rate was accelerating.

Robotnik sighed. “Out with it already. You clearly can’t hold your tongue.”

An unreadable expression flashed across Stone’s face like a lightning strike. “This jet is completely automated?”

“Not completely. I do have to do maintenance on it, seeing I’m the only one in the world who understands how it works. But everything else is, from the turbines to the pilots to the disposal of the excrement. Everything works as it should. Unlike most people.”

“I see,” Stone mumbled absentmindedly. His face twitched into a bashful smile, but he cleared his throat and hid his lips behind a fist.

“Is there something wrong about the jet?” Robotnik asked slowly. “Did this piece of mechanical art offend your senses in any way?”

“It’s not that, it’s just…well, considering this thing is completely automated and you don’t even need to intervene, does that mean you’ve…you know…” Stone pumped his eyebrows.

Robotnik frowned in confusion. “What?”

“Well, uh…ahem. Have you…joined the Mile High Club?”

Robotnik stared at him for several seconds, trying to figure out if this was a trap. Judging by the blush on Stone’s face, it probably wasn’t.

“I’ve flown this jet many times, yes.”

“But have you ever, you know… _got down_ with the vibrations?”

This time Robotnik raised an eyebrow. “I’ve specifically designed this jet so that it’s the smoothest ride possible. What vibrations?”

“Doctor, you don’t understand.” Stone chewed on his full, dark bottom lip, carefully deliberating his next words. “You haven’t attempted to try… _something_ with another person while in your private jet? Something _dangerous_?”

Robotnik glimpsed at Stone’s crimson face, the chewed lip, swollen and bitten. In that moment, Robotnik became aware that the space between his seat and Stone’s felt much smaller all of a sudden. He could lift his shoe and it’d be the perfect distance to Stone’s groin. If he pushed down where Stone was most sensitive, how would he react? Would he scream in pain, or would he take it like the obedient little machine he was? Would his face scrunch up or would it be open and expressive, pitch black eyes staring unwaveringly into Robotnik’s own?

The gears in Robotnik’s head finally began to turn. He spluttered, choking on his own saliva in surprise. Stone stood up to react, but Robotnik put his hand up and forced Stone to return to his seat.

It took a while for Robotnik to recover. But in his defense, how could anyone recover after such an insinuation, and from Stone of all people?

“A-are you seriously asking me if I’ve fucked someone in this jet?”

Stone rubbed the back of his head. “I wouldn’t use that language, but uh…yeah.” He chuckled nervously. “You…don't need to answer if you don't want to.”

This had to be a trap. Who in their right mind would ask such an inane, personal question? But then what would Stone get from this? A glimpse into his sexual habits, at best, but what use would that be to him? If he told Stone, he was surely going to be disappointed.

After several seconds, Robotnik glimpsed out to the window and said, “Obviously I did not. In this jet, or a different aircraft, or in any public setting, you idiot.”

Stone let out a quiet breath. “Sorry if that was personal. I was just curious.”

“It is a ridiculous question to ask anyone, let alone your boss,” Robotnik huffed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought you had protein aggregations in your brain because clearly you aren’t thinking at all. Why would you ask such a thing when we are still on the job? Are you a member of this so-called Mile High Club?”

Stone lowered his gaze. His cheeks and ears were the colour of tomatoes. He was silent. Unnaturally silent.

“You had sex in an aircraft?” Robotnik gaped. Straight-laced, coffee-making, bureaucratic Stone?

“I mean, not sex itself. But uh…I got, um, close to it. Close to sex, I mean.” He was blushing furiously now.

Robotnik squinted his eyes, trying to figure out what ‘close to sex’ could possibly mean. Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately) for him, Stone seemed to pick up on his confusion.

“If I say this, promise you won’t tell anyone?” Stone squeaked.

Robotnik was about to roll his eyes, but the pleading look in Stone’s eyes gave him pause. This wasn’t a Stone secret. This was a Tariq secret. Another piece to the puzzle that was Tariq Hajjar.

“I’ve got no use for that information,” Robotnik said quickly. “I won't tell anyone. Promise.”

Stone let out another shy smile as he rubbed the back of his head, slowly building up the courage. He took a deep breath in, then out, then in, then out. Finally, he looked up to Robotnik.

“It was a blowjob,” he said.

For a second all Robotnik could hear was the sound of the air conditioners cooling the cabin. “You…received one, or—”

“Gave,” he replied. “It’s nowhere near as good as people make it sound. You gotta be quiet and inconspicuous and quick, so you can never really enjoy it. Also, commercial flights have horrible toilets.”

Agent Stone gave a blowjob. In an aircraft that’s far worse than this. To a person with a penis. He willingly got into a tiny cubicle with someone else, got on his knees, and sucked on someone’s cock until they came. And judging from that blush, he enjoyed it somewhat.

Suddenly Robotnik could feel his ears prickle with heat. “I-I’m sorry, you gave a blowjob to someone in an aircraft bathroom?”

Does that mean he’s…

Is he actually saying he’s…

Stone smiled tightly. “I think you can guess that I’m not heterosexual.”

Robotnik had no words, so he just shook his head.

“I identify as homosexual personally. To put it more bluntly, I'm gay.”

Robotnik still had no words. He was faintly aware his mouth was still hanging open.

“You look surprised, Doctor.”

Robotnik cleared his throat loudly and straightened his back. “I-I’m not surprised, I just don’t see the point in you revealing this information.”

“I would’ve thought you’d have known by now,” Stone said. “You’ve probably uncovered worse on my profile.”

“You’ve done something worse than fornicating in a bathroom?” Robotnik asked incredulously.

“I'd say murdering plenty of innocent lives is worse, but in your books, it's probably not.” Stone chuckled nervously, “Still, there might be something else you think is worse. My internet search history at that time was…well, you probably know what young men search up when they're alone. You've certainly threatened it more than a few times.”

Robotnik looked away, unable to come up with a response. It should disgust him. He never cared about sexualities, just thought of them as another weakness in the cycle that was the human condition. But the idea of Stone being homosexual brought a strange sense of glee and relief, and he had no idea why. And as always when he didn’t know the answer to something, that frustrated him. Stone was frustrating, with those thick lips and open throat, all too ready to get down on his knees and take someone’s cock into his eager mouth. He'd be good at it, wouldn’t he? Willing to go along with every little command, no matter how ridiculous. So eager to please. Or maybe he liked to fight back, keep that lucky man on the very tips of their toes, forcing them to pay attention to Stone. He could say some dumb things but he had a clever tongue. How clever that tongue might be on something thicker and far more sensitive than Robotnik’s fingers, tasting his way up and down their length as he moaned the name of his newest conquest.

_Ivo…_

Robotnik suddenly stood up, indignant, confused, angry at himself for these unwarranted thoughts, and possibly even horny.

Stone stared at him wide-eyed, a deer caught in headlights. “Doctor…?”

Did Stone always look at Robotnik like that? Like he was ready to consume or get consumed?

Robotnik’s face twisted. “Get out of your seat, and on your knees in front of me this instant!”

Stone scrambled into position, looking shaken but none worse for wear. Robotnik leaned over and grabbed his tie, pulling Stone’s neck toward him.

“What game are you playing at?” Robotnik hissed.

“G-game?”

“Mentioning your sexuality, sucking on my fingers like they’re lollipops, having the audacity to suggest that I might care about anyone other than me in this world. You're looking for something about me, but you're fishing with no bait.” He leaned closer, their noses almost touching. “What is your game, Stone?”

Stone inhaled sharply but didn’t say a thing. His gaze was not focused on Robotnik's face but instead lower, closer to his crotch. Stone gulped audibly. His shaking hand the front of Robotnik's thigh, but Robotnik quickly slapped the hand away.

“W-What are you doing?!” Robotnik wanted to growl, but the slightest shiver of his body betrayed him. 

Stone’s eyes widened, a crimson blush staining his cheeks as he finally looked Robotnik in the eye. He looked like a child that got caught past his bedtime, or a dog who pooped on the rug when they know they shouldn’t. A man that was thinking about a far more different scenario playing out right now.

Robotnik would shove Stone away if it wasn't for that ridiculous fear that he might get tainted should he dare touch Stone properly. “T-that is disgusting.”

Stone scrambled up to a sitting position. “W-what was I supposed to think? You just brought me down to my knees right after I told you I gave a blowjob in an airplane. You do the math.”

“What kind of man do you take me for? If I asked you to give me a blowjob right here and right now, would you really do it?”

Stone opened his mouth, and left it hanging. After a few more seconds of silence, the implication hit Robotnik all at once. A shocking wave of heat crept up Robotnik's body.

“You…” Robotnik swallowed. “I-I am not that kind of boss. You will be fired for trying something like that on me. You know my stance on relationships in the workforce.”

Stone looked away shyly. “I-I know,” he whispered.

“So why…?” Robotnik couldn’t finish his sentence. Why would Stone have done it? What would Stone hoped to gain from such a lurid, sexual act? Another crack to Robotnik’s armour? Another weakness to exploit? Or was he that much of a depraved pervert to risk his entire life for a minute or two of forbidden pleasure?

After everything he had subjugated the man through, why would Stone say yes if Robotnik had asked?

Stone defiantly glanced into Robotnik's eyes as he stood up slowly, his piercing gaze returning. In the back of Robotnik's head, he somehow understood that this piercing gaze belonged to Tariq Hajjar, not Agent Stone.

“Do you really want to know?” Tariq said weakly, his voice thick with an emotion Robotnik could not identify.

Robotnik breathed heavily, his chest burning as he stared back. Stone was out of breath too, curiously enough, the tremendous blush spreading across his face and down his neck somehow making him look more intimidating, not less. Stone squirmed slightly but firmly held Robotnik's gaze, his dark eyes alight in flames.

He did want to know. He wanted to know everything about everyone. But he thought his reason was safety. Not whatever this was, this longing to keep Stone close, this desperate need to make Stone his, and only his.

It was too much for Robotnik to handle. He darted his eyes away from Stone's, the miasma trying to tug their bodies forward. Robotnik was faintly aware he was blushing but he could do nothing to stop himself. This was dangerous territory. This intoxicating tension in the air had to cease this instance. As usual, Robotnik had to be the one to sort this mess.

“Stone…Tariq…I am your boss first and foremost,” Robotnik croaked, trying his best not to sound so absolutely _wrecked._ “J-just because I am your intellectual and literal superior does not mean I will force you to commit such sexual acts. I am a man of science and results, not petty emotions and bodily fluids. You ever try and solicit me in any way like this and you will be fired. I am your boss and you are my subordinate. For as long as we are professionally acquainted, sex—or any kind of relationship-building activity—will never occur between us. Got it?”

Stone nodded quickly. He looked relieved, and perhaps slightly disappointed. He brushed his hands down the front of his shirt, lips pressed tight. “I understand. I won’t make the same mistake again, doctor.”

“I should fire you, but I won’t,” Robotnik said. “When we touch down on Soleanna, you’re going to get the worst punishment possible for what you suggested.”

Stone lowered his head to the floor, crossing his legs underneath him. Robotnik noticed that the zipper of Stone's pants seemed to have extended slightly, the front of his pants bulging. “Doctor?”

“What?”

“C-can I use the bathroom again?”

“What did I just say earlier about asking?”

Stone stared at Robotnik, let out a small but grateful smile, then headed straight for the bathroom near the back, slamming the door behind him.

Robotnik sighed heavily, the air feeling all of a sudden much easier to breathe. With Stone out of sight, his shaky legs slowly led him back to his seat. He opened up his computer, waiting for his racing heartbeat to calm down and his heavy breathing to return to basal levels.

This was just a nightmare. A living nightmare, but it was over. He had curbed this, and by default, curbed all future advances. He should congratulate himself. With his words Stone should not distract him anymore, taunting him with those soft smiles. He could finally concentrate on his work with his capable assistant by his side. No messy relationships. No meeting with the in-laws. No need to worry about birthdays and anniversaries and maintaining relationships and the incredible, all-encompassing heat that comes from the union of two bodies.

Perhaps this was the root of his problems. These sexual, _human_ needs that Stone had, these baser cravings. Being a government agent constantly on the move with Robotnik, living under a cover identity, he probably didn't have the luxury of bed partners. But surely there was some machine that could do the same job. There were a few in the BDSM club that looked like it might fulfill a man's primal needs. A few even looked discrete enough to travel with. Perhaps Robotnik might make a few arrangements to give Stone the freedom to take care of his needs in a discreet manner, preferably without Robotnik knowing the grizzly details. Machines need to be maintained after all, didn't they?

He said the right thing. But that didn't explain the confusing swirl of emotions settling heavily on his chest, weighing him down as if they were made with lead. He was missing something, but _what_? What was it?

Then he heard the unmistakably _wet_ noises coming from the occupied bathroom.

It was hard to block out the noise. It was so distinct, so visceral that Robotnik could practically imagine Stone right now behind that closed door, eyes shut tight, teeth clenched. His pants were around his ankles and his hand over his engorged cock. He had to be leaking uncontrollably for Robotnik to hear those filthy slaps, hips shoving against a closed fist. If Robotnik strained his ears, he could hear the suppressed sighs and groans, muffled words of pleasure hidden behind a sleeve or a hand.

Robotnik swallowed thickly. He had to block this out. Find his headphones. Pretend this wasn't happening. He shouldn't be sitting here like an idiot, staring blankly ahead, thighs squeezed so tight it could crush a person's skull.

He glanced down at the glove, observing Stone's vitals. His heart rate was quicker, as was his breathing rate, suggesting some kind of physical activity. How furious was Stone getting it on in there? He had to be pumping hard, trying to get his sweet relief quickly and inconspicuously and quietly, and failing on all three accounts. Was he so incompetent that he couldn't get off from a handjob? Or was there something else?

It suddenly occurred to Robotnik that even if the bathroom wasn't completely soundproofed, he did not hear Stone when he did his business earlier. Which meant Stone was being unnaturally loud. But why? So Robotnik could hear him?

Was this another one of Stone’s twisted games?

Robotnik's palm slowly slid down the front of his pants, feeling the soft flesh slowly get firmer.

No, this wasn't Stone's game, Robotnik realised. If the urge hit Stone he'd either be efficient, or he would control himself. And now that Robotnik thought about it, all these little things that waged war inside Robotnik's mind, that was when Stone's mask slipped,when the other side of him showed. This was Tariq Hajjar in that bathroom, pleasuring himself so lewdly, making his depravity be known to Robotnik. This was Tariq Hajjar playing these fiendish games. Tariq Hajjar that was forever on Robotnik's mind.

Was that why he told Robotnik his full name? To expose himself? So Robotnik would be obligated to expose himself?

Robotnik bit back a gasp. He glanced down, only to realise that his hips were leaning into his hand, trying to find friction between the layers of fabric.

He had to control himself now, too. Stone could be finished any time now. But…what would it feel like to have his cock out in the open, hit by the cool air? If a pair of drooling lips enclosed around the head and took in his length? Stone said it himself, a blow job didn't count as sex. Not all the way. Just the tip. There was no way Stone or Tariq could ever refuse Robotnik…

The light flickered back to green, and Stone got out and headed for his seat. Robotnik quickly retreated his hand to his side and dug his blunt nails into the flesh of his palm, hoping the pain might transfer through the material of his gloves. If Stone noticed, he didn't say anything.

Stone's hair was not as neat as it once was, and his cheeks were still flushed, and his body language was stiffer, as if he knew he had done something he should not have. His eyes flickered onto Robotnik's but before Robotnik could say something, Stone averted his eyes to the window.

Over time Robotnik was able to regain control of his body and get back to work on his computer. Throughout the flight, Robotnik couldn't help but think about how he might deal with Stone's conundrum. Stone needed to be oiled and maintained to work perfectly, and perhaps he has been neglecting his own needs.. Perhaps after this mission, if Stone did his job right, Robotnik might allow certain _exceptions_ to his rules. Only for Stone though. Only for his machines.

* * *

The jet touched down not in the main airstrip of Soleanna, but in an abandoned airfield at the Northern most edge of the island. The place was empty and devoid of life. Just how Robotnik liked it. The jet finished its touchdown procedure and the door opened up, and the two of them descended onto the ground.

Robotnik headed for the sole building in the airstrip, a gigantic metal shack meant to store airplanes. Except there were no airplanes. Just strange robots, the likes of which would look almost terrifying to anyone that wasn't Robotnik. Not all machines were created equally, but they were all beautiful in Robotnik's eyes. Just like Stone.

Stone followed Robotnik into the shack as the machines whirred to life, carting themselves toward the jet. His eyes widened in wonder, as it so often did when he got to witness Robotnik's genius.

“You weren't kidding when you said it was almost completely automated,” he said.

“But of course,” Robotnik replied. “Why leave it to humans when machines can do it so much better? That's what it's only you here for this special mission.”

“I was wondering about that, but I didn't feel it was right to ask,” Stone said.

“You didn't ask about why you were the only agent for this mission, but you felt it was appropriate to ask about my sex life?” Robotnik raised an eyebrow incredulously.

Stone shrugged. “I wasn't thinking.”

“Since when do you ever think?” Robotnik rolled his eyes, stopped in the middle of the shack, and inputted a command into his gloves. An electronic chime could be heard resonating from invisible speakers. Then, nothing.

Stone watched Robotnik curiously, his keen eyes darting across the area. “What did you d—”

“Sshhh! Wait for it…” He raised his hands, then clicked his fingers. “Now.”

The shack began to vibrate and shake. The holographic façade on the floor switched off, as the floor plates began to slowly move away. A hole slowly began to grow in front of Robotnik, the drop so far down that Robotnik could not even see the bottom. An elevator rose up, and Robotnik entered it, followed by Stone. They barely fit in it together, their shoulders and hips sliding against each other as it them down (mental note: he was definitely making this larger).

There was only one stop for the elevator, the doors sliding open. Stone inhaled sharply as he stepped out, marveling this underground structure. Practically it was a hideout, but it could very well have been the lair of some evil super genius. At least, that was what Robotnik had in mind when he designed this place. There was a common area, and a bedroom, and a kitchen, and a full laboratory and the entire place was swarming with floating robots—really drones with bodies—following their code.

Robotnik couldn't help but smile at Stone as the latter stared at this place with wonder and delight, as he always did when he got to bask in Robotnik's genius.

“Congratulations, Stone,” Robotnik opened up his arms dramatically. “You're the first outsider to know of my secret Soleanna lair.”

“It's incredible, sir. How did you build this place? When did you build this place?”

“I told you before that I worked for G.U.N in their R&D department. I also had a stint here for the Soleanna government. Terribly royalist, the Soleannans, but even I must conceded that their research into marine technology fascinated me. The lodgings they provided me were horrendous, so I made my own. And now it shall be our hideout. Complete with a laboratory, private facilities, and an armory.”

“Armory?”

Robotnik smirked. “Follow me. I've got a room to show you.”

They walked pass the entranceway to the sprawling living room, built with the latest and greatest technological wonder…of a few years ago. By now, some of the things like the TV were positively ancient, but Robotnik could always replace it or make his own. The living room was directly connected to the kitchen, with three doors, one for each wall. In Robotnik's mind it corresponded to each of the different sectors of his hideout. To the left was his personal chambers, where his bedroom and bathroom was. To the right was the laboratory and testing chambers, as well as the recharging stations for all of the robots. Last but not least was the door in front of him.

He lifted his gloved hand to the scanner, and the door opened.

“Will I need one of those?” Stone pointed at Robotnik's gloves.

“What do you mean?”

“Knowing you, I'm assuming that's the key to go from area to area in this hideout. And also knowing you, you probably didn't consider the possibility that someone else might be here with you.”

Robotnik turned his head away. Stone wasn't wrong, not that Robotnik would ever admit that. “You're not getting your own gloves.”

“Then how am I supposed to get around here, doctor?”

Robotnik made the mistake of glancing down at Stone's hands. They were smooth, but thick. Perfect for a pair of gloves. It'd be something else to see Stone's fingers deftly command the drones like Robotnik could. He'd be a natural. He was a quick learner. Perhaps with gloves on his hands, Robotnik might even be able to tolerate Stone's touch, whether it be a lingering hand on his shoulder or a gentle caress of his face.

Robotnik was faintly aware that his ears were burning. He grimaced. “I'll think of something,” Robotnik grumbled as he quickly stepped through the door to the Weapons section.

Initially the hallway was unassuming. It was a straight corridor, with only one door at the end, the claustrophobic nature of the corridor only cut slightly by the addition of windows to the side, revealing rows upon rows of strange devices. Robotnik got to the end, placed his hand to one scanner and then pressed his ear to another, and the door slid open.

If Stone was amazed before, he was absolutely impressed now.

All that could be seen was rows and rows of all of Robotnik's more military inventions. Many of them were older prototypes of his drones, but he also had sentries and heat-seeking missiles and a whole plethora of vehicles of different shapes and sizes, ready to be deployed. They walked through the rows, Robotnik reminiscing about the invention of these weapons of mass destruction. He could rebuild every single one of his inventions by memory, even the ones he had made when he was a child. That ray was built to propagate the myth of UFOs. That weapon blew up a military compound in Eastern Europe.

This room was where Robotnik kept all his weapons. The best part: no one but him could use them. They were all uniquely coded to him, with multiple different systems preventing anyone else from using his precious weapons.

That is, until now.

They got to the end where the more conventional, less imaginative inventions were displayed. A different variety of sci-fi looking guns, each with unique properties and mechanisms. Amongst them was the handheld PEP gun that he crafted during his stay in Soleanna. He gently took it out of the rack, pressed a few buttons on his gloves, and the light on the side shone yellow. He handed it to Stone. The light turned green.

“Was this what you were fired with?” Robotnik asked.

Stone looked at the gun in his hands, face sharp as he observed it carefully with military efficiency. He twirled it, twisted it, checked for the magazine and stock then readied himself into the proper stance. He looked as if he might fire the gun, but he relaxed, resting his weapon over his shoulder.

“Not completely. It was a slow build-up, not the rapid fire system you've implemented, like it needed time to get ready—more a Sniper weapon than this. And while this one seems to have its own internal battery to charge it, the one that shot me had a sort of magazine. But the overall shape and design is very similar.”

“Why use such a slow inefficient method?” Robotnik shook his head. “You're sure the design is the same?”

“Absolutely.”

“Do you remember the facility you got shot at?”

“I do. Why?”

Robotnik chuckled. “Then that shall be our first place to investigate. We can't just barge in on the Duke without evidence, after all. Much as I'd like to wipe his obnoxious face off the face of this planet, he needs to be ruined.”

“Then why don't we just go after him? Charge in guns blazing with your superior tech?”

Robotnik tried not to smile at Stone acknowledging his amazing inventions. “It won't be enough to just kill him. I need to make sure no one will be able to recreate my machines ever again. They are mine, and only mine. And for that, we'll need to do some spying and figure out where they're manufacturing it. Or should I say, _you'll_ need to do some spying.”

Stone tried to keep his face blank, but his eyebrows rose microscopically. “Me?”

“Well there's no one else to talk to, is there?” Robotnik said. “Go to sleep. We're doing this in the middle of the night, and I don't want you to fall asleep in the middle of this mission.”

“So there's a room for me?”

Robotnik frowned. “You were the clever one who deduced this place was built for me and me alone. You get the couch.”

Stone raised his eyebrows. “You're joking.”

“You're lucky I'm even offering the couch.” The very idea that Stone might stink up his lovely couch gave rise to a strange mix of complicated emotions.

“And my luggage? The luggage that you gave me very little time to prepare?”

“Will be dropped down into here soon, if it's not already in the living room.”

Stone shook his head. “Honestly, doctor.”

“Is that backtalk?” Robotnik stepped forward, shortening the distance between their bodies.

For a few seconds Stone stared at Robotnik, that now-familiar blaze burning in his gaze. And just like before, he shook his head in defeat, and the flames were gone. “No, sir,” he whispered.

Robotnik held back a frown. “Then we sleep now and wake up 1am Soleanna time. I assume your watch has already been set to this timezone. We leave this place at 1:30am latest, and then you do your mission.”

“So you're coming?” Stone asked.

“Obviously you need someone to give you intel,” Robotnik rolled his eyes. What a stupid question. “I have to concede that the majority of my inventions are a bit too…obvious, for a mission like this, so I shall be piloting one of my drones to accompany you. Besides, you've trained for this, haven't you? Espionage, I mean.”

“Then what about the gloves? This is just one mission of several, isn't it? I need a way to get around this place.”

“You'll go where I say you go, when I say you can.”

“Do you still doubt my skills? Or do you not trust me? You know all too well that I'm loyal.”

A bit too loyal, Robotnik thought, if he would've gotten down on his knees and pleasured Robotnik with a single command. It occurred to Robotnik that he forgot to punish Stone for the comment he made mere hours ago. It didn't feel right then, just as it didn't feel right in this moment. Maybe it was that intense look in Stone's eyes, that daring look, like he would do whatever Robotnik said and enjoy it. As if daring Robotnik to give in to what he really wanted.

Despite himself, a cold shiver ran down Robotnik's spine. Stone's lips twitched into a half-smile. He noticed.

“Sir…”

“Fine. If you are going to moan about it, you can have the bed and I'll take the couch. But if tomorrow goes wrong, I am blaming this all on you.”

“Sir, that's not what I meant.”

Before Stone may say another word, Robotnik turned on his heel and speedwalked out of the armory, Stone barely able to follow his quick pace. As Robotnik suspected, Stone's luggage had been brought down to the living room. If his robots were still working as they were supposed to, Robotnik's own luggage should have been localised to his bedroom already. Almost everything should have already been sorted to their usual areas in his bedroom, because he didn't bring anything different from what he normally brought on trips like this. Except one particular item, one he wouldn't want Stone to see.

“Sir, come on, you don't need to sleep on the couch, that's not what I meant.”

“Then pray tell me, Agent Ben Stone, what you meant.”

“Your bed is almost certainly a King size. It can easily fit two people. Just…let me sleep on one side and you sleep on the other.”

“Forgive me for not trusting you after your shocking admission barely a few hours ago, but I don't trust you to keep your hands to yourself.”

“You made it very clear what your stance is. It's just for today, for the rest of this trip I can sleep on the couch. And if I do anything you don't like, then fire me. Or punish me.”

Robotnik wanted to argue, he knew he could make Stone submit to his will, but for some reason he didn't feel like it. He felt drained, not physically or mentally but emotionally, like every little secret Stone revealed siphoned a bit of energy away from Robotnik. That puppy dog look in Stone's eyes made Robotnik feel weak, and he hated feeling weak, except he didn't really hate it if he kept letting himself get into situations where he felt weak.

He promised himself never to think about that dream again, but it returned with a vengeance, plaguing his mind with pointless things like kissing Stone and holding Stone and touching Stone. Was this what his subconscious meant about giving in? To let these moments of weakness happen?

Without a word, Robotnik walked over to the scanner to his personal quarters and opened it. He motioned for Stone to wait as he entered the bedroom, sorting all of the miscellaneous stuff that had been left on his bed and dumping it inside the wardrobe. He silently beckoned Stone in, who put his luggage in an empty corner. Neither of them looked at each other as they stripped themselves of their jackets and settled into the covers of Robotnik's soft, plush bed, their bodies as far away as possible on the bed.

Robotnik could practically hear the moment Stone fell asleep, his breathing rate slowing almost instantaneously to a softer, slower melody. Robotnik relaxed slowly, trying to slow his racing mind down and not think about the other person in his bed and the proximity of their bodies. He should be terrified being so vulnerable to such a deadly government lackey, but he wasn't, and the fact he wasn't terrified made him terrified.

Vulnerability was something to be avoided. It was weakness: exploitable, ugly, unwanted. Vulnerability made you a target. Vulnerability made you a weak idiot. And this moment right now was vulnerability. He could fall asleep right now and it might be his last. Stone could wake up and kill him in his sleep, could wrap his hands around Robotnik's neck and squeeze tightly, could take Robotnik's lips against his own and make sure Robotnik never breathed again.

Robotnik turned to Stone slowly and watched his back move microscopically, breathing in and out as he huddled into himself, and Robotnik couldn't help but feel a strange sense of calm overwhelm him. Like this was natural, the next evolutionary step to take. Robotnik stared at the back of Stone's neck and felt the strange compulsion to sniff him, to see if he was still wearing that horrible cologne, and despite every fibre of his body telling him it was wrong, he couldn't stop himself. But what he smelt was not cologne. It was the woods, and lemony citrus, and a hint of sage, and salty sweat. It was Stone's natural scent, and somehow he smelt even better than the cologne.

The strange emotions bubbled and boiled within Robotnik's chest, and he felt the compulsion to touch Stone intimately, to make him moan in pain and pleasure, but he didn't know why. His hand laid outstretched, itching to touch but not being able to.

As Robotnik tried to force himself to sleep, he idly realised that he knew far more about Stone than he did about his own, ugly, human emotions.


End file.
